


Push The Button

by Kalee60



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avoiding talking about the actual important stuff, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky wants to give ALL the hugs, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Explicit Sexual Content, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Semi-Public Sex, Shrunkyclunks, Slow Burnish...., Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Top Steve Rogers, soft and slightly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 100,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23444569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: When Bucky Barnes meets Captain America for the first time, he doesn’t expect to embarrass himself so spectacularly with only four words. But from the ashes of his mortification comes a proposition so unexpected that he doesn’t even think twice about agreeing to play along.Pretending to date Steve Rogers should be hard, but it isn't… not at all. In fact it’s the easiest thing in the world.So what happens when Bucky wants to shift their status from fake to something more permanent? And more importantly, would Steve even be interested in more than just friends?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 953
Kudos: 1204
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Stucky: Canon Divergence, StuckyAUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/gifts).



> So this fic is in honour of my best gals birthday - which is today!!
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) \- you are an absolute gem and I would not be the person I am today without you xx
> 
> In lieu of being able to go out and celebrate, I asked Darter for a prompt so I could write a b'day QuikFic. Of course, I high-jacked said prompt and suddenly this was born - (another fake-dating, full of tropes, story to add to the thousands that already exist) Sorry, yet, somehow I'm not sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> The prompt is from the below tweet (apologies I don’t have the original to credit) and Darter also requested Shrunkyclunks and FLUFF, ALL THE FLUFF. I’m not great at fluff, but I gave it my best!
> 
> ‘The elevator doors opened up and a guy walked into the elevator. It was just me and him in there and he said, “I love you.” And I’m not rude so I said, “I love you too.”
> 
> He gave me a weird look and pointed at his Bluetooth.’
> 
>   
> *Also this just happens to fill one of my Bucky Barnes Bingo spots - U2 for Bucky/Steve

Bucky looked up at Stark Tower looming over him, only the slightest amount of trepidation buzzing in his veins. He ran a hand through his recently cut hair and immediately missed the length he used to hide behind, but Darcy was adamant he looked ‘tasty yet professional’ now. He wasn’t so certain, but it definitely was easier to do in the mornings. 

Squinting as the morning sun winked at him from the edge of the building, he felt the tendrils of apprehension curdle in his stomach. He wasn't at all concerned about why he was there, it was more about _who_ he was meeting that made him jittery. And it wasn't Pepper Potts who elicited that reaction.

Sighing deeply to steel his resolve, Bucky checked his messenger bag, fingers touching on his laptop before patting the printouts he'd also brought, in case his computer wouldn’t work; it was only the twentieth time in fifteen minutes he'd checked. Next he quickly adjusted his navy blue suit, ensuring the button was fastened and he hadn’t twisted his shirt, then tugged the hem slightly to smooth out the fabric. It would have to do. Certain his overcautious nature was finally working in his favour (Bucky even had an extra shirt so if he spilled his morning coffee, he was covered) he walked into the huge cavernous foyer.

His company, White Wolf Homecare, specialised in providing electronic aid for war veterans returning from the front line. It was for soldiers and the like who'd suffered trauma so profound they found even doing the simplest of tasks overwhelming. Bucky's goal was to integrate Stark technology with his Homecare app to make SmartCare, an evolving AI which could calculate and help veterans integrate back into society, and more importantly feel safe in their own home.

Bucky knew all too well first hand, how hard it could be.

Pepper, from their recent communications, was excited beyond all measure for their meeting, Tony Stark on the other hand seemed less enthusiastic. And he was the one who held the decision on releasing the technology.

Bucky honestly had no idea _how_ the day would pan out.

Signing in to get a security visitor pass was a fluid process, finding out his meeting was in a subsidiary office somewhere on the 73rd floor made him a little nervous. Stark Tower was a veritable rabbit warren and Bucky still had too much pride and refused (stupidly) the map which was offered, words proclaiming, 'you are here' with a large yellow arrow on it.

So when by accident he was pushed out with another twelve jostling bodies to the 13th floor, then had to wait for another free elevator, (when every damn one zipped passed his location), he regretted not asking for a map to the office. He was going to get lost, he knew it.

Finally one came to a halt, and anxiously looking at his watch he noted he only had ten minutes before the meeting started. Bucky raced inside, glad to be the lone occupant, mainly so no one else could witness his mild panic attack. He slammed his finger on the correct floor, seven times - all while willing the doors to close quickly and zoom straight up like a bullet train.

So of course, it stopped on the very next floor and he could have screamed in pent up frustration.

Trying not to bounce from foot to foot in agitation while repeating, ‘come on, come on’ a million times in his head took herculean strength, he did _not_ want to look like he was losing it, even though he was. He also had to school his features so he didn’t scowl at the incoming person, who’d inconvenienced him by making the elevator cease its upward motion once more. So it was completely understandable that when the doors opened to reveal Captain America wearing his full regalia, sans helmet, Bucky forgot momentarily why he was in the building.

As The Captain strode in, replendish in his red, white and blue - shield tucked snugly on his broad shoulders, he looked directly at Bucky and with a deep velvety voice stated, "I love you."

Bucky’s eyes widened, heart racing in his chest and without thought, as he wasn't rude like that, responded loudly, "I love you, too."

It took all of three seconds to get a raised eyebrow in pure amusement in return, as Bucky faltered to function like a basic human being by staring openly, then The Cap pointed to his ear. An ear which held a small snug black Bluetooth device in it. _Fuck his life_.

The Cap was on the phone. Oh christ, could Bucky get any more mortified?

His face burned as he took a step back into the corner of the elevator, hoping to hide behind Captain America’s large frame, but Stark clearly believed in mirrored surfaces and all Bucky could see was his slightly horrified expression bouncing off every wall. He could also see The Cap’s huge beaming grin as he murmured to whoever was on the other end of the call. Of course when he pushed the floor he was after, it was the same one as Bucky. 

"No worries, Nat. Thanks for that, you're the best."

The Captain then double tapped his ear to finalise the call, before turning slowly towards Bucky with the biggest shit eating grin plastered on his face. For all of two seconds Bucky was caught breathless at being focussed on so intently by a national treasure, then he remembered for what reason and immediately wanted to curl up, rock back and forth while saying 'there's no place like home'.

But to be fair, if the situation ever arose when Captain America said he loved you, the only patriotic thing to damn well do was respond in kind. 

What made the situation even more surreal was Bucky may have a small (huge) crush on the slightly older and imposing man, especially as he'd come out bisexual earlier in the year to shine the light on equality and inclusion. The slight scruffy beard he currently wore also didn’t hurt.

There was nothing sexier than competence hand in hand with confidence and Captain America had it in spades.

Bucky was just not expecting to ever see him in the flesh, let alone be in such a confined space after blurting words he’d never uttered to another adult man before. Even if he didn’t really mean them.

“You could at least buy me dinner before proclamations of love.” Captain America teased, the hint of a smile on his full pink lips.

Spluttering, Bucky could only look back in indignation, was he being sassed? “If memory serves me correct, and it does - you said it first.”

Blue eyes sparkling in mirth caught his and Bucky forgot how lungs functioned, “But, I wasn’t saying it to -”

“ - nope, you said it clear as day - no take backs unfortunately.” Bucky replied grinning, having no idea where his bravado was coming from. His heart thumped in his chest and he couldn’t help feel like the elevator had slowed its trajectory. It was taking forever to reach the floor he, no, they required. 

Then The Cap leaned back against the wall, looking comfortable and at ease before running a hand through his dark blonde hair, watching Bucky like he was an interesting puzzle. Bucky watched as strands of his hair realigned themselves perfectly, of course they did, this was Captain America. He was certain his own hair was all over the place by now.

“Well, if there are no take backs, we’d best introduce ourselves, since we are madly in love and all.”

“Who said madly? Presumptuous of you. Maybe you’re just starstruck from my brilliant social skills, and honestly - this relationship is doomed from the beginning like all my others when you realise I like pineapple on my pizzas.”

The loud rumble of laughter from The Cap’s chest, vibrant and unaffected. It also made Bucky lean against the elevator wall, just to hold him upright. There was too much virility in the small space and Bucky was internally gasping with the magnetic pull from the superhero before him. The fact he was stringing coherent sentences together was a miracle in itself.

“Sacrilege, no one likes fruit on their pizzas, this bears further investigation. You can’t be serious…?”

Bucky’s face split in a wide grin at Steve’s unasked question, “It’s Bucky, and deadly serious…?”

“Steve,” he replied, looking gratified to be able to introduce himself. “So if this isn’t too forward of -”

The doors opened suddenly and Bucky jumped at the intrusion of noise from the floor as it filtered into the small space. Steve stopped speaking immediately and Bucky ached to know what he was about to ask, but instead they walked out of the elevator together and finally his brain came back on line as he glanced at the large clock in the reception area and just about expired. He was officially late. Jesus H. Christ.

Bucky practically ran to the virtual reception desk, hoping like hell it was an easy program to navigate, but of course it was out of order. He looked sharply down each way to the two large branches of hallways to see if he could work out where the meeting room was. There were plenty of people bustling around, so he could swallow his pride and just ask someone.

“Ahem,” a cough from behind him stalled his panicked thoughts about screwing up the single most important meeting of his life. How on earth had he forgotten that Captain America, Steve Rogers was standing right beside him. There was a reason Bucky was forever single.

Bucky turned slowly, hoping he didn’t look like a startled deer in headlights and shrugged apologetically, trying to convey that he was sorry he was a train wreck, balled up with nerves and wound tightly with anxiety all at once.

The softening around Steve’s eyes in understanding should not have made him want to walk over, place his face into his neck and just inhale for a moment to get his bearings. It did make him want to, very much so, and Bucky was horrified to note he’d already taken one step forward before jerking to a halt.

“Captain of the sneaky love boat, why in hell didn’t you tell us, actually me more specifically - I thought we shared everything. I’m gutted.”

Bucky spun to see one Tony Stark waltzing lazily towards them, confusion reigning in his rattled brain. Tony was supposed to be in a meeting with him and Pepper right then, was he rocking up late? How very rude. Though on the heels of his indignation came the realisation he, himself was very late, but - that wasn’t the point.

Steve took a halting step towards Bucky, and his fried senses went into overdrive immediately. How had he not smelt Steve’s scent in the elevator before? It was warm, inviting, woodsy and he wanted to lean in even closer to bask in the calmness which resonated from his very pores. Was that how Captain America made everyone feel?

“I don’t know what you mean, Tony,” Steve said with a resigned sigh which only came from years of knowing someone. It sounded just the way he spoke to Sam and Darcy sometimes. Bucky felt inordinately pleased that Steve had someone in his life who exasperated him, it made him very human, relatable. But Bucky was not here to watch two friends squabble.

“Uh, excuse me - I’m here to -”

“- and you, look at you - you’re not what I’d call classically hot, though our Bald Eagle here always did like brunettes, you clearly work out and I’m sure -”

“Tony, stop!” Steve barked, making Bucky jerk in response to the booming voice. A solid hand was suddenly at his back and he couldn’t help lean into it, not understanding how Steve managed to get so close, yet also how his touch relaxed Bucky in such a bizarre and strange situation. He just honestly wanted to get to his meeting.

“Hey, calm down,” Tony held up his hands placating, although how he made it seem sarcastic at the same time was beyond Bucky, “I’m just excited to finally meet your boyfriend.”

“Uh, his what now?” Bucky choked out, feeling Steve’s hand on his back stiffen. Why was Steve still touching him, and why was he even closer? Bucky’s head was swimming. 

Had he even woken up that morning? Was he still in bed? Oh Lord, he was having one of those nightmares where he was desperately trying to attend a work meeting and no matter what he did, he never got there. He looked down to ensure he was wearing pants. He was. Not a dream then? He wasn’t sure at all anymore.

“Tony,” Steve warned.

“What? It’s just that I had a full list of people worked out that I slaved over for potential dates, and here you were - already in love with someone else.”

Steve’s hand finally left his back, allowing Bucky to breath unhindered. Steve then pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger sighing heavily. Bucky had a feeling this was almost a natural state for him when conversing with Tony.

“Did your list consist of identifying anyone in the company who is gay or bisexual? Because Tony if it was, then that is a horrendous breach of privacy and I can’t even begin to explain why it’s so wrong if you don’t already realise it.”

Bucky watched as Tony’s face did a complicated thing, which made it extremely obvious he actually _did_ just pull a report, and he instantly felt bad for Steve. Clearly Tony had been foisting unwanted dates on the large man. Then between all of his splintering thoughts on being late for his meeting, his faux pas in the elevator, and then Tony’s brand of inappropriateness, it hit him, Steve hadn’t corrected Tony’s assumption.

He finally glanced at Steve who shifted nervously, his deep blue eyes flicking towards Bucky, pleading with him. Pleading for what exactly?

“Well, since I most definitely did _not_ do what you suggested, I’m still put out that you kept this under your hat. Look, I get you like your privacy but Pepper and the HR team can help, and to think I was going to set you up with Brad from accounts, whose name I did not get off of a list. But after you rejected the last fifteen people I’ve offered up. I now know why.”

Bucky snapped his eyes to Steve’s, wide and filled with abject confusion, had he stepped out of the elevator into a parallel universe? One where Tony Stark was obsessed with Steve Rogers dating life?

“I’ll admit now, he’s tasty.”

“Tony!” Both Steve and Pepper, who’d arrived from the depths of a majestically hidden hallway yelled at him.

He couldn’t help it, Bucky was there for his livelihood, to pitch an idea that hopefully the biggest company whose values most aligned to Bucky’s could assist in helping the less fortunate, and instead he was caught up in a soap opera (albeit with a very attractive cast) he needed to correct the assumption that had been made. But as he went to voice the words, Steve cut him off.

“How did you figure it out? About us?”

Oh… _oh._

Bucky’s mouth flapped open, and Steve’s hand once again hovered at his back, not touching, but there. He was very, very aware of its existence though. Especially as he couldn’t get his thoughts to align.

“JARVIS showed me some footage from the elevator, I still can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

“It’s not really our business, Tony.” Pepper admonished quietly, then turned her attention to Bucky.

“It’s lovely to meet you…?”

“Bucky.” Steve supplied with a grin and an imploring gaze towards Bucky, which he knew only too well. He and his sister, Becca used to share it all the time when covering for the other with their parents. It was the patented, ‘play along - I’ll explain later’, look. How in hell was he supposed to deny Steve that? Especially when he looked so earnest and pleading. The short answer was, he couldn’t.

“Uh, hi, nice to meet you both. But, honestly I didn’t come here to see my… boyfriend as it were.” He watched as Steve’s shoulders loosened and couldn’t help feel like he’d finally said the correct thing, even if it borderlined on the most ridiculous sentence to ever leave his mouth. “I’m actually here to see the two of you about the SmartCare program, I got lost and Steve graciously helped me out.”

“Oh, of course. You’re James Barnes, of White Wolf Homecare,” he saw Steve glance sharply at him when Pepper said his name, not sure what the look meant. “I thought your voice was familiar. We had no idea you were dating Steve.” Pepper finished with a broad smile and Bucky felt like a heel. He was lying directly to someone he hoped to get into business with. Steve owed him the biggest explanation.

“So how did you dreamboats meet?” Tony asked with a smirk, “coffee shop meet-cute? Steve saved your cat from a tree? Oh, maybe it’s that application all the kids use, Grindr.”

“Jesus, Tony,” Bucky finally blurted, then realised he’d basically told one of the most brilliant inventors of all times who he wanted to work with, to shut up with a tone. Steve chuckled beside him and he felt slightly vindicated. “We met in an elevator actually.”

Best to tell the truth since he was fairly certain - somehow, he was pretending to date Captain America. At least for the next ten minutes anyway.

It most definitely was _not_ how he thought the day would pan out.

After a shaky start, the meeting with Pepper and Tony went surprisingly well, much better than Bucky expected. He sincerely hoped it was his pitch and research which helped get it over the line, and not the fact he was 'friendly' with a fellow Avenger (and wasn’t that a strange concept to try and work through after only twenty minutes).

Although the first ten minutes of the hour long meeting set Bucky's teeth on edge, as Tony watched him through narrowed eyes, firing off a million questions about how on earth _he_ knew what veterans required. That was until Bucky had finally snapped and unprofessionally ripped his suit jacket off to roll up his shirt sleeve and explained in layman's terms how very much he was qualified, as he _was_ a damn veteran himself.

Tony at least looked chagrined as Pepper stared at her partner horrified. Which was nice for all of three seconds before Tony started in on questioning his metal prosthetic, who had manufactured it, how he could make it better, how he would make it _look_ better… 

"I'm good," he ended up saying matter of fact in a tone which brokered no room for further comment. For the first time in the hour he’d known him, Tony stayed almost completely silent and continued to for the rest of the meeting. 

Bucky understood the sentiments behind Tony’s brash and lack of finesse with his questioning, he would have asked a similar line, although tactfully and to not antagonise the other party. Tony was a dick in the way he spoke, but Bucky also realised he was brilliant when it came to machines and designing programs, but he grossly lacked people skills. Which was why Pepper was clearly in charge.

They wrapped up with a new deal and Bucky hid his relief, he truly believed in his vision and knew it would enrich the lives of thousands. Pepper indicated she’d have her people put a contract together and he’d have it by the end of the week to look over.

It was when Tony called out that Bucky better be at the Avengers shared dinner being held a week from Friday, he stalled in putting his laptop and papers away. But Tony was already out of the room leaving just Pepper and him behind.

“James, I am so sorry he was such an ass. Honestly I know he is, have always known, but he still surprises me with his complete lack of being able to read the room.”

Bucky smiled warmly at her, he liked Pepper, she was definitely the Yin to Tony’s Yang, but he was still concerned that the only reason they’d agreed to partner with him was because of Steve.

Pepper must have sensed his underlying thoughts as when she walked him out, she patted his arm, “we were always going to accept your offer and work with you. Your vision aligns exactly with how we want our technology to be integrated. It had nothing to do with Steve. No matter what Tony might indicate in the future.”

He thanked her gratefully without saying anything incriminating, because even knowing without Steve’s influence he would have sealed the deal, it still felt a lot like lying.

As they said their goodbyes in the reception area, Pepper threw over her shoulder as she walked away, “Oh and don’t be scared about next Friday, there will only be a few of us and I _know_ the team are going to be dying to meet Steve’s secret boyfriend. You don’t need to bring anything either.”

Bucky grunted out what he hoped was a suitable response and the moment she left his line of sight, he found a chair near reception and sank into it gratefully. He needed a second to clear his head to calm the storm raging within, as the last hour and a half was more tumultuous than the time he threw all of Brock’s belongings from his balcony after he found out he was sleeping with not one, but _five_ different men - from the same spin class they attended.

He ran a hand heavily over his face and sighed deeply. He needed a drink and wondered if Darcy would be up to head out and meet him somewhere, he almost smiled - of course she would be. But how could he even start to explain what had unfolded that afternoon? It was almost like a dream, intangible, there was no way it had _actually_ happened. And Bucky knew once he left the building, he would hear nothing more about it. It had to be a slip of the tongue and Steve would sort out the misunderstanding with Pepper and Tony and everything would align back into a neat ordered row of normality.

There was a momentary pang deep in his stomach at the thought of what it might be like to _actually_ date Steve Rogers. Would it be as crazy as he imagined, full of high speed chases and kidnappings every other day? Yet the image which solidified in his mind was Steve and he, snuggled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. Bucky’s fingers gently carding Steve’s hair, whose head lay in his lap, arms hugging around Bucky’s’ waist tightly, and it was so real, so viceral that when a hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into blue eyes full of concern, he almost reached up to trace his fingers over those phantom cheekbones.

“Are you okay? Bucky?” Steve was saying, and from the frown which creased his brow it wasn’t the first time he’d asked. Resisting the urge to reach out and smooth the lines away, he blinked a few times instead.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Just spaced out for a second." Bucky managed to articulate in the face of Steve's concern. He was so very close to Bucky and Steve’s large hand pressed into his shoulder, strong capable fingers digging in before loosening up, now that he could see Bucky was back in his brain.

How many times in one complete day could Captain America see Bucky at his most embarrassing? He wasn't sure he wanted to keep count. The number was steadily climbing.

"Can we chat?" Steve asked solemnly, eyes flicking to the side, and that's when Bucky noticed a few people outright staring their way. It was uncanny, he’d never been the focus of attention in such a way before. Not unless he was presenting something, and never when sitting in an office chair conversing with someone. But, he’d never conversed with a bonafide hero before either. 

"Sure, err - here…?" He began but stopped when Steve shook his head.

"No, privately if possible. Downstairs there's a coffee shop on the third level, we have a booth reserved." Gone was the confident man from the elevator and in his place was a man a little uncertain, a little jumpy.

Bucky tried for a light joking tone, concerned at the tightness creasing the corners of Steve's eyes. "Well isn’t that once again very presumptuous of you? I might have said no." 

The low huff of amusement in return nice to hear, Bucky inordinately pleased he'd managed to tease it out.

"Okay smarty pants, I meant the Avengers have a standing booking, it's in a private section." Steve paused, staring into Bucky’s eyes searchingly, looking for a sign of something, but what - Bucky didn’t know. He knew though in no uncertain terms, he would try and give this man anything he asked for, and it was such a strange and new concept, especially since they’d only just met. Maybe it was why he was Captain America, he automatically instilled in people the urge to do the right thing, to help where they could.

Nodding to himself, Steve swallowed what words he was about to utter and stood up. Bucky immediately felt chilled as Steve’s body heat was removed from his orbit, and for the first time, noticed Steve had changed into jeans and a deep blue Henley. A Henley which was about three sizes too small. He’d forgotten that Steve lived there in the Tower, had also been naked in that very building within the last hour if Steve's slightly damp blonde hair was anything to go on. Suddenly Bucky's cheeks began to fill with heat at that very specific thought, then the inability to tear his eyes away from Steve’s quite frankly mesmerising chest. Steve Rogers was built like a truck. A truck he wanted to climb all over.

"You don't mind, do you? I mean going to the cafe? With me?" Steve followed up, and it was the soft hesitation in his voice which elicited a warm smile from Bucky in response, instincts automatically needing to make Steve at ease. He didn't question it.

"Of course not. I'm addicted to coffee, so it's not particularly a hardship." He didn’t add the company was also not a hardship either.

"Oh, that's good to know… something I _should_ know." He trailed off and held out a hand to help Bucky stand, the odd words flowing into silence. He took the proffered help without thinking, Steve's hand warm, dry and solid beneath his own slightly damp palm.

Within ten minutes they were settled in a booth, a caramel latte for Bucky and a black espresso in front of Steve. Bucky noted Steve sat where he could see the entrances with his back against the wall, and felt a heaviness settle in his gut at Steve having to always calculate for trouble, to always being switched on and for never letting his guard down. It would be exhausting.

They sat with their untouched drinks for a moment, Bucky waiting for Steve to begin, since he’d asked him there, but he remained quiet and an almost awkward silence fell over the table. Bucky needing to do something with his hands, else reach over and pat Steve’s large one resting on the table, stirred in his third sugar and hoped he wasn't courting disaster with his diet.

Glancing over to watch Steve, the large Avenger looked down into his cup, deep in thought. The strength in his frame, the weight of being one of the world's only saviours on his shoulders apparent in the fine lines which creased his eyes. He was beautiful, striking in his stature and although Bucky had seen him in countless press conferences, tv shows and magazine articles, it was only sitting across from him that he saw as plain as day, Steve Rogers was lonely.

“Steve, I -”

“ - I need to date you,” Steve blurted over the top of him. And Bucky sat back heavily in his chair as if the words struck him.

He blinked once, Steve still not looking up and Bucky wanted to grab Steve’s coffee cup and peer inside, because there was clearly something of interest floating around in it.

“I’m sorry?” Bucky replied, the shock in his voice not feigned. 

“I mean, not for real - of course,” Steve swirled his coffee around a few times before taking a long deep sip, eyes jittery and refusing to land on Bucky.

“Of course,” He repeated. “Uh, sorry - you’ve caught me for six here. _Why_ do I need to date you… not for real of course?”

If he sounded slightly bitter at the words, he didn’t mean to. But putting such a clear caveat on whatever Steve was asking him for, felt slightly insulting. As if Bucky didn’t realise someone of Steve Rogers reputation, would date a relative nobody like him. He was well aware and didn’t need a blatant reminder.

“That was rude, I apologise.” Steve said softly, finally looking up, and _damn it,_ he was worrying his bottom lip, which made Bucky feel all kinds of things. Amongst them, things he should not be picturing in public.

“Accepted. But that doesn’t explain why?”

“It’s selfish,” he began and Bucky could tell immediately Steve was struggling to voice what he wanted, and he had an idea it was purely because Steve rarely asked things for himself. It was unsettling and Bucky’s heart went out to him, even though their current situation was gaining momentum to be the most ridiculous scenario he’d ever been a part of.

“You do know, it’s okay to be selfish once and a while? I mean, I guess you need to date me for media reasons? Avenger reasons? Tax reasons? Sexual harassment reasons?”

At the last throw away line, Steve jerked upright, a look of indignation so pure on his face, Bucky almost baulked under the stern ‘you’ve disappointed Captain America’ look.

“I meant someone is harassing _you_. Jeez, settle down Captain Paranoid.” Bucky took another sip of his now over sweetened and cooling drink, ignoring Steve’s pointed stare. “I’m just spitballing ideas over here since you're not exactly forthcoming.”

Steve gave Bucky a wan smile before scrunching his nose up in thought, and Bucky was hit with how relatable Steve suddenly became, how uncertain he looked in that moment. It was humanising, and Bucky felt that not a lot of people witnessed this side of him and decided he’d cherish the fact Steve was allowing himself to be… himself - with Bucky. It was a heady sensation.

“It’s actually stupid, but here goes. As you know, I came out last year as bisexual,” Bucky nodded because you had to live under a rock on a different planet not to have seen or read about it. “I haven’t dated anyone since. Female _or_ male. It’s... hard to find people to relate to, who see me for something other than the ‘man with a plan’. An actual human with thoughts and passions outside of being Erskine’s project I guess.”

Bucky felt a small noise of concern escape him, and swallowed it down with more sugary drink. He regretted the third spoonful immensely.

“Tony and Nat have been trying to set me up since then, and my PR manager has been pushing me to at least date, show the world I’m relatable, out there in this century, assimilating…”

“Is it really anyone’s business?” Bucky interjected, feeling annoyance at the lack of consent or choice in Steve’s situation, “I mean, if you’re happy then who cares if you’re dating or not - honestly, you don’t owe the world anything, you, do _you_ Steve. That’s all you _need_ to do.”

Steve’s eyes slammed into Bucky’s with the force of a fifty foot tree falling in the forest, and Bucky felt himself start at the intensity, the hope and understanding which shone through and he had no idea what elicited such a reaction. But he liked it.

“I know that, and _you_ know that. But the greater public just don’t get it. So I mean, if I was dating someone for a little bit… someone like you, then it would give me a little breathing room.”

"But, what if I was seeing someone?" He couldn't help ask.

"Oh," Steve sounded put out, "are you?"

"Err, well… no, but what If I wasn’t gay?"

"You are?" Steve's eyes lit up and Bucky felt a pang as he nodded, because it wasn’t the thought that Bucky batted for his team which did it, but the fact his dating story now had more credence.

“What if I don’t _want_ to?”

Steve stopped, clearly not having thought it could be a possibility, and if Bucky were being brutally honest, there _was_ no possibility. That he’d say no. He was _that_ chump.

“Crap, you’re right. I’m giving you less choice than I have about things. Look, I’m sorry. This was a wildly stupid and innappropriate idea.”

Bucky let out a sigh. “Okay, let me get this straight. This entire charade is to basically get people off your back?”

Steve’s look went from completely helpless to burgeoning hope, but then ruined it with a shrug like it wasn’t a big deal, which showed Bucky that actually, it _really_ was a big deal.

“Yes and no. Full disclosure, it would actually be nice to have a… friend. Someone to chat with about normal stuff, who isn’t part of the whole,” Steve waved his hand around to indicate the Tower and presumably the Avengers housed within it. “And who isn’t Tony to be honest.”

Bucky managed a small huff of laughter. “Honestly, Pal, You’ve known me for less than a couple of hours - how do you know we’d get along? I guess, I mean, I’ll ask again - why me? I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to help you out.”

“But _not_ you?” Steve asked dejectedly, eyes steadily holding Bucky’s. _Hoo boy,_ this man couldn’t hide his expressions well at all. No wonder he wore a mask as part of his costume.

“I didn’t say that. I just want you to be certain. Because once we start watching a show on Netflix, we are watching it to the end of the line, because I don’t do half seasons. It’s all or nothing.”

The sunshine smile he received for his teasing made Bucky’s chest jolt with an unfamiliar lurch.

“I can live with that, as long as they are not _all_ science fiction. I do like crime for a change, oh and documentaries and also comedies.” He went quiet as Bucky laughed.

“I’m ambi-series-ous, dealer’s choice, you can have first pick.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed and practically slumped in relief, and Bucky had not realised how stiff he’d been holding himself. “But, to answer your earlier question on why I’m asking you - specifically. You’re James Barnes right? From the 108th Infantry?”

At Bucky’s surprised nod, he hummed like knowing his identity was validating for some reason.

“I read about what you did back in the Middle East, with your Squad, what you went through to keep them alive. You’re a hero yourself,” he ignored Bucky’s embarrassed squeak, “I feel like we’d get along, and, it’s hard to explain - but you just look at me differently to other people.”

Bucky knew he looked at Steve like a dehydrated man looks at a tall glass of chilled water with a big slice of cucumber in it. Thirsty as fuck. Which he was certain wasn't different to anyone else on the planet. 

“I can also pay you,’ Steve blurted, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck as his face flushed a wonderful shade of crimson.

Bucky frowned, “I’m not taking your money, Steve.”

“But what will you get out of it then? You _should_ get something...”

Bucky had to stop for a second. He honestly didn’t want anything from it. He just felt compelled to help Steve, and the fact that he’d get to know this interesting and enigmatic man, be close to him (even if it was pretend) was payment enough. Though he couldn’t and wouldn’t ever say that outright.

“If I’m lucky - I might get a friend too,” he replied evenly, injecting as much sincerity in his voice as he could. “Plus, it’s the right thing to do, you’ve given so much to the country, it’s the least I can do in return.”

Steve's face went genuinely bashful before he grinned thoughtfully, making Bucky’s breath catch in his throat. 

“Well then, what are you doing tomorrow night? Bar an emergency happening in the world, want to catch up and get a pineapple-less pizza?”

Bucky’s heart notched up a pace at the sudden confidence which had returned, he was back to elevator Steve, cocky and a little cheeky.

As he nodded yes, he knew if he wasn’t careful, Bucky might find himself very well falling for a literal superhero.

He was going to have to be on his guard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the b'day fic continues for [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) \- thanks for getting a year older and making my brain hurt while trying to plot this out ;)
> 
> Honestly - the response for the first chapter of this (supposedly 3500 word story {oh I laugh and laugh at how I underestimated the story that needed to be told here}) has been overwhelming. I am so stoked that there are so many people who love a fake-dating story just as much as I do! So thankyou - you make my poor heart full <3
> 
> Just for anyone wondering - this will be completed, I have never ever left anything half finished. But, the difference with this story for me is that I have never ever written anything as I go - I always have the end very close in sight before posting - I am literally one chapter ahead of the game here - so I plan to post weekly to make sure you get consistency and hopefully a story worth your time as well!
> 
> How many chapters - *shrugs - sorry, but as soon as I know - so will you!
> 
> Hope you like boys who are trying to get to know the other!

Bucky raced around his apartment one last time to make sure everything was in its place, he wanted no embarrassing tidbits about his life put in Steve’s path. Not that his living space was full of errant deep dark secrets, but Darcy had visited earlier and knew he had a ‘friend’ over that night; he didn’t trust her as far as he could hypothetically throw her. He half expected to turn on the TV and find the unfortunate video of him drunk beyond belief, dunking for fruit slices in a fishbowl from their group holiday in Fiji on the screen. Darcy had played that trick before.

Steve appeared shocked when after he’d suggested meeting up that Bucky, instead of rattling off a local pizza bar or the Tower, had invited him into his home. He wondered idly if Steve had expected Bucky to renege on their (not well thought out - or at all) agreement. Honestly though, the thought of going back to the Tower and potentially seeing Tony again so soon gave Bucky conniptions, it made the decision on where to meet easier. And from the rush of thanks and gratitude Steve spouted enthusiastically, Bucky wondered how often he’d been invited into people’s homes recently. Not often it seemed.

Another plus for staying in was Bucky could relax in his space and furthermore to that, knew his kitchen backwards to be able to make pizzas he knew wouldn’t disappoint in size  _ or _ flavour. Bucky was an exceptional cook, even if he said so himself, and it all came down to living alone. His choices when he first moved out were take-away or learn to cook - living on Chinese and burgers was great for the first few months, until he started to crave vegetables and had a real concern about developing scurvy. The day he walked into a supermarket and stared quizzically at a cauliflower, forgetting it’s name for a second - was the catalyst to subscribe to the cooking channel.

Pacing through his apartment while the pizza dough rested, he once again landed before his mirror. Even though it wasn’t a real date, Bucky was treating it as such. It would be good practice, and in the confines of his own head, he’d admit he genuinely wanted to look nice for Steve. He couldn’t silence the small voice in his mind bellowing that ‘Steve might actually end up  _ liking _ , liking you’. It sounded like his ten year old self, and it was very hard to ignore. He suddenly felt sorry for his mother who’d been inundated with that voice for years.

Eyeing his dark blue casual chinos and plain light grey jumper critically, he pushed the sleeves up over his forearms, before yanking down the neckline for posterity. He felt much better with the overall casual, yet took six hours to choose outfit. If Steve had read his personnel file, inadvertently learning his history, then clearly the prosthetic wasn’t a surprise; although Bucky never hid it per se, he was ultimately relieved he wouldn’t have to explain how he’d received it. It was never great first date fodder. Even with full dexterity which came from cutting edge technology, people still shied away. But with Steve’s own history in the military along with his charity works in recent times, he would be surprised if it phased him. 

Bucky had just finished rolling out the bases when Steve arrived, he buzzed him up and waited with bated breath, nerves jangling throughout his body. It was one thing to have an almost out-of-body experience to meet and then agree to date Steve, and another for it to set in as reality. 

What if Steve had changed his mind since the day before?

When he swung open the door at the tentative knock, Bucky had to hold onto the doorframe a little tighter, else his knees give way. Steve was utterly delectable, immaculately dressed - just like he was going on a  _ proper _ date. A deep thrum began to resonate within Bucky.

“Hey Buck,” Steve held out a bottle of red wine and Bucky, grateful to do something with his hands which didn’t involve pulling Steve in by his very crisp white shirt to kiss him breathless, took it and motioned him inside.

“Welcome to Chateau Barnes,” he croaked, then couldn’t help devour every line, every inch of Steve as he walked almost hesitantly into the apartment. He wore dark jeans, ones which from the back needed to be outlawed or come with a warning at least (he had an inkling Steve had no idea  _ how _ good they looked on him) paired with a deep navy suit jacket and brown casual loafers. He looked goddamn edible. And Bucky was suddenly very hungry.

Shutting the door with a quiet snick, hoping his impure thoughts would stay out in the hallway, he led them to the kitchen, checking the label on the wine before his steps faltered.

“Uh, Steve - do you know what wine this is?”

At the soft shake of Steve’s head and a small embarrassed shrug, Bucky internally melted, “Tony just thrust it at me as I walked out the door - said it was appropriate... date etiquette to bring wine. Is it no good? I mean last time I did this a posey of flowers and a stern talking to from a father was about the extent.”

Bucky swallowed his words quickly, because he desperately wanted to know if Steve was suggesting he was his first ‘date’ since before the war. If that were so, then Bucky would do everything in his power to make it memorable,  _ well _ , not in the way his baser instincts were craving, but he could show Steve a good platonic time at least. 

“Pal, we are dining like kings tonight. Yes it’s good.” Bucky knew for a fact the wine was worth more than $300, only because he always bought the bottle next to it for $20 at the store. “But maybe don’t ever say Tony and thrust in the same sentence again.”

This elicited a warm chuckle and Bucky busied himself with decanting the wine and getting two glasses down, less he stared stupidly at the gorgeous man in his kitchen non-stop.

Steve took it upon himself to look around, eyes wide as he learned Bucky’s space, his sanctuary. The kitchen and lounge were together in an open planned format, but instead of feeling small and pokey, the space was large. Huge arched floor to ceiling windows covered one side of the room, showing the muted lights of a bustling Brooklyn beyond, and the kitchen itself had the latest appliances and a large bench made of marble, all to Bucky’s specifications. He  _ really _ did love cooking. Two bedrooms were tucked away in the back, one currently an office and also a bathroom with a huge freestanding tub. The apartment was expensive, but he loved it. And while his business was financially stable and growing in leaps and bounds, he allowed himself the luxury of living the lifestyle he wanted to lead. Which now apparently included having Captain America around for dinner. A not unpleasant turn of events.

“Are you  _ making _ pizza?” Steve asked incredulously when he’d finally finished gawking out the windows, and walked back over to the kitchen where Bucky was starting to prep their food. 

“Uh-huh, hope you like it spicy?”

“I love spice.” Steve replied as he leaned over the bench, looking at the ingredients Bucky had laid out, then back to him like he was Da Vinci about to embark on creating a masterpiece. “But I can see a half pineapple over there, I hope you don’t plan on ruining perfectly good food with that?”

Bucky smiled enigmatically, “You’ll never know if it’s on there or not.”

“I have taste buds you know. And although people still think I live on boiled bone broth - I do not. Sorry to disappoint, I’m gonna know if there is any of that atrocity on my pie.”

Bucky laughed, couldn’t help it and smiled to himself as Steve perched on a stool at the bench to watch him cook.

He thought the guileless way Steve adjusted himself as he sat, then looked self-conscious as the stool squeaked under his weight, adorable. He seemed so out of his element and was trying so hard to seem unaffected, even though Bucky knew he had a million questions.

Smiling indulgently, he caught Steve’s eye, “don’t be shy - ask anything you want. I know you’re dying to.”

Steve grinned like Bucky was going to regret saying those words and started to fire off questions about the neighbourhood and launched into exactly what was different since he was a kid and how housing had changed exponentially and space was still a luxury. Then Steve started on how Bucky learned to cook, then  _ why _ he actually liked to cook, making Bucky grin - clearly Steve wasn’t a chef. The conversation shifted to Bucky’s company and how AI was going to help veterans of the future and finally he asked why Bucky wasn’t dating anyone. 

By the time Steve asked that particular question, they’d eaten enough pizzas to be considered gluttoness, Steve even admitting the tiny piece of pineapple which  _ fell  _ onto his piece, not terrible; the wine was half gone and they were lounging on Bucky’s large sofa with soft indie music playing in the background.

“Uh, well technically, I  _ am _ dating someone,” Bucky tried to deflect with a roguish smile, not wanting to get into his torrid past lovelife yet, and was rewarded with a warm grin. Steve was much more relaxed and at ease now than when he’d first arrived. He liked it - really liked it.

"You know what I mean."

"I do.” But Bucky didn’t elaborate, “I could ask the same of you?"

Steve was quiet for so long that Bucky was about to retract his question.

"Once, I thought I had found someone. Things didn't really go according to plan. And since I've been… awake - I guess I've just never found the right partner to want to try again. Sounds silly when I say it out loud, you have to date to find a connection, but I’ve always wanted to feel a spark of something first, you know?"

Bucky nodded and couldn't help wonder if Steve had felt a spark like he had when they'd met in the elevator. Although it was one of the more mortifying experiences of Bucky's life, at first in any rate, he couldn't find it in himself to rue the way it panned out though. Even if friendship was the only offer on the table.

Steve then tucked a long muscled leg up on the couch, making his jeans tighten in ways that would make a sane man question his sensibilities and faced Bucky directly. The position inadvertently brought him within touching distance, and if Bucky had the guts to mimic Steve, their knees would bump. He desperately wanted to move, but didn't want to crowd or over step boundaries they'd not yet established.

Steve continued his train of thought, "Maybe I'm just old fashioned, but everything feels backwards these days. You meet someone once, start dating immediately and then are committed before you really know each other. Instead, you should get to know the other,  _ then _ ask to go steady, date… fall in love properly."

Bucky laughed at the wording, the sentiment warming him though, as did the way Steve ducked his head at the sound of his mirth, "unless you ask a stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend?"

Steve smiled wryly, "yeah, this is different for me, not the way I planned it at all.”

He went quiet all of a sudden, as if he’d revealed too much, but Bucky wanted more, craved words of a different ilk to leave his mouth. Of course he would never push Steve, for fear of looking like an even bigger dunce than he’d already proven himself to be, so to feel a little better, he pulled his own knee up onto the sofa, knocking Steve’s gently.

Steve glanced up sharply, Bucky watching the way he swallowed tightly. Maybe Steve didn’t like to be touched,  _ oh,  _ he’d not even thought that. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with confined spaces and having people press against him, it must happen so often, everyone wanting their pound of flesh from the hero, not thinking of the man underneath. Bucky slid his leg back surreptitiously, so they weren’t touching, then almost inhaled his tongue when Steve, moving naturally and without thought, pushed his knee back against Bucky’s. His brain flicked over to white noise.

“I have to ask,” Bucky said, wincing at the slight high pitchiness, Steve catching his eyes so quickly it was a little disconcerting, “if you’re not seeing anyone, who did you say ‘I love you’ to in the elevator? Who’s Nat?”

From the furrow in his brow it seemed Steve was slightly confused by the question, almost as if he were expecting a different one, but he finally spread his hands out and gave a shrug.

“Nat? Oh, sorry, Natasha, Black Widow.”

Bucky was an idiot not to put two and two together, and also extremely proud he didn’t react at all. Natasha Romanoff held a special place in his heart as his favourite Avenger. He was almost thirty, not dead and of course every man, woman and child in the world had one superhero they gravitated towards. Bucky for some reason had always found something special about the Black Widow, her strength, her take no prisoners attitude, but sometimes her small almost sly smiles aimed at the other Avengers made him think she would be fun, like, yet unlike Darcy. Although to hear Steve say her name so flippantly was something else. He’d somehow forgotten he knew these people - oh, god - he was going to  _ meet _ them the following Friday. Swallowing tightly he tried to look like he wasn’t internally freaking out.

“Oh, Nat - right. Of course.” He said casually.

Steve eyed him like he wasn’t fooling anyone, a spark igniting in his eyes, “long story short, she managed to track down something from before the war for me. It’s a record player for some old vinyls of mine. The sound quality will be terrible but it’ll feel like a little slice of home. Maybe when it arrives you’d like to come over and check it out?”

“Sure.” It was the only word he could manage, else he gush that he’d love nothing more than to play old records with Steve one day, perhaps in prelude to some heavy making out to Frank Sinatra.

“Actually, I really wanted to ask - "

A claxon of bells from Steve's pocket interrupted his words, obviously annoyed, he pulled out and glanced at the device, "I am so sorry, it's work. I have to get this."

"No worries, I'll tidy up." Bucky replied and grabbed their empty plates as Steve said 'Rogers' into the phone, hoping he’d return to his train of thought once he’d finished the call.

Bucky couldn’t help look back over to Steve as he packed the dishwasher, his blonde head moving as he gesticulated to the person on the other end of the line. He was still sitting comfortably on the sofa, like he’d sat there a million times before and this was a regular occurence, but his voice held an authoritative note as he asked questions; and just the tone made Bucky quell inside. 

He found he honestly enjoyed having Steve in his space, another person to converse with, and so far they got along famously. Their conversation didn't waver and for all the perceived years between them, they had many shared experiences, albeit with slight differences. They both had broken their right arms falling from heights as kids, they loved baseball but were terrible at playing and they both served for their country. The last common ground they covered was their adoration for their mothers. And although Sarah was long gone, Bucky yearned to introduce Steve to Winifred, knowing she would tuck his large frame under her small arm and give him some motherly comfort. But would it be overstepping their, what? Friendship? He wasn't sure - Darcy and Sam loved his mom, so technically it wouldn't be weird or unprecedented to take Steve home as one of his friends. It made things in his chest lurch at the thought of introducing Steve to his family.

Taking a deep breath as he set the dishwasher, he tried to dial things back, his brain was moving too fast, too far into the future. They were still on their first 'meet-up' and hadn't actually talked about how pretending to date each other would go, what they would tell people, how long they would be in this charade. It seemed they'd been too caught up in  _ actual  _ conversation to touch on it.

He heard Steve finish the call, and by the way he’d jumped to his feet, Bucky immediately knew he had to leave. The sharp tug of regret he would be saying goodbye to Steve, even for now, was surprising. It probably shouldn’t have been.

“I have to go, not a world ending emergency, but it’s pressing.”

“It’s fine, Steve, no need to apologise. You’re a hero after all, and have hero things to do.” 

“Yeah, but it’s cut our evening short, and…” he looked shy all of a sudden, “I was having fun.”

“Me too,” Bucky replied without thought, feeling nervous for some reason but enjoying the way Steve’s lip tilted in a small grin.

Bucky quickly put some leftovers into a plastic container for Steve, whose face did a complicated array of expressions when Bucky held out the proffered food.

“For me?”

“Yeah, Pal, for you - don’t get too excited, pizza never reheats the same. Just eat it cold, even the pieces  _ with _ pineapple.”

He laughed at the scandalized look on Steve’s face, yet Steve still glanced between the container and Bucky like he’d just gifted him with something life-saving. Had no one ever given Steve Rogers leftovers? It made him sad for all of the things this man had lost over the years, and the comfort of a home, with meals and simple leftovers was something everyone should experience. So Bucky made a decision, one his poor heart would probably regret, but he would do his damndest to give these things to Steve, to make him feel welcome and at ease. It’s what a good friend would do, right?

Steve took the container reverently and with what Bucky hoped was reluctance in his gait, made his way to the front door. Bucky trailed after him, eyes firmly trying to rise above Steve’s glorious ass, he failed miserably. He wanted to give the person who chose those jeans for him a thousand dollars and a permanent job as Steve’s personal shopper.

“Oh, I forgot to ask before - can I get your number?” Steve blurted as he opened the door. Bucky immediately grabbed his phone from his pants, handing it to Steve who added his name in, then dialed himself so he’d have Bucky’s. “Just so we can go over a few things, I hope it’s fine.”

“Don’t worry so much, just don’t start sending me cat memes at 3am and we’ll be fine.”

“How about 3pm?” 

“That’s acceptable,” Bucky said with a smile.

As they stood at the threshold of Bucky’s door, he realised this would be the time he’d kiss Steve if it were a real first date. Because by all accounts so far it had gone amazingly well, and if it were true to life, then Bucky wouldn’t hesitate a second before yanking Steve close and finishing the evening with a hot, wet and needy kiss. His entire body begged him to do  _ just _ that.

A pat on the shoulder seemed too impersonal, so instead, trying to be mindful that Steve might yank himself away, he pulled Steve in for a very quick friendly hug. Steve was solid, a little taller than expected and stiffened up ever so slightly, and Bucky immediately went to step back, but then Steve just went... boneless a second later, his own arms suddenly wrapping around Bucky hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure how an embrace worked properly. 

It felt more intimate than a kiss would have been.

“Thanks for dinner,” Steve finally said as they disentangled themselves quickly, both avoiding each other’s eyes. “I’ll call you later.”

With that, Steve walked away, leaving Bucky staring after him, mouth agape from all the thoughts and questions running through his mind. Just before he turned the corner Steve looked back, and Bucky flushed, still standing there gazing after him like a chump. Steve ducked his head quickly and held up a hand in a half wave and disappeared, as Bucky slammed back inside, leaning against the door once he’d shut it.

For the next hour, he tried not to label why his heart hammered so quickly in his chest.

Darcy came back from the bar with a tray laden with drinks and a look which was altogether too much like a cat sighting an errant mouse in its path. With a flourish, the tray whirled onto the table and she’d proceeded to line up three shot glasses before Bucky. He stared ruefully back at her grinning face.

“Do I have to? I’m not twenty anymore...”

“Of course you do, we’re celebrating your new business venture with Iron Man… sorry Tony Stark, plus, you’re acting like such an old man.”

“Hey, I’m like three month older than you, tops.”

“Try five, and you’re still doing the tequila. I haven't seen you in months.”

“Two weeks, Darcy. It’s been two weeks.”

“Feels like months.” She pouted.

Bucky felt bad for one hot second, until the first shot burned down his throat and he realised two weeks was  _ not _ long enough. The following two shots were akin to guzzling fire and Bucky was determined to buy the next round, he was never doing tequila again. Not unless it came in a stemmed glass and had the word sunrise after it.

“I really hate coming out with you.” He coughed, holding the back of his hand over his mouth, still wincing at the gummy taste of lemon and salt coating his tongue. He felt like a frat boy, not an almost thirty year old adult who owned his own company.

“You  _ do _ not.” She countered, “You come out with me because I am an excellent wingwoman.”

Bucky inclined his head, she wasn’t lying, somehow she always found the one man in the bar who was gay  _ and _ Bucky’s type. Though he wasn’t interested in Darcy trying to use her powers of sinful evil that night. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of broad shoulders and a cheeky yet bashful grin.

“Not tonight though - I’m all yours. What do you want now?”

“Tequila.”

“Not a chance,” he replied quickly, “I might get you a very very sweet white wine.”

“Ugh,” Darcy made vomit noises, she was terrible on white wine, always got angry then hungover with headaches for a week after.

“Perfect, one Riesling coming up - in a shot glass?”

Laughing with too much mirth, Darcy swatted his ass as he got up to buy them another round of drinks that came in something slightly larger than a thimble and tasted less like gasoline.

As he pushed his way through a throng of people to get to the bar, his phone vibrated in his pocket, and with mounting anticipation checked it quickly.

_ Steve. _

A rush of relief hit him as the simplistic banner with Steve’s name on it filled his screen. Since Steve had left his apartment a few nights earlier, Bucky had spent an inordinate amount of time checking his phone, feeling once more like a teenager waiting for a crumb of affection. He may have texted Sam and Darcy too many times just to get a response, ensuring his phone’s messaging hadn’t broken - as if that was something which  _ actually _ happened. Yet each time his phone vibrated or made any form of chirping noise, his pulse quickened and he felt his mouth dry up… for absolutely no reason. Each and every message he received, which because he was conscious of it, was quite a few, were not Steve. Until that night. 

It wasn’t the fact he’d not heard from Steve since their sort-of date night which was worrisome, after all it had only been a few days - although his pride would have liked to at least received one cat meme by that stage. It was more the fact CBSN had been reporting non-stop on the Avengers in Belarus dealing with an alien crisis since their pizza night. 

Steve was out of the country dealing with a potential worldwide emergency and Bucky had no idea if he was safe or even okay, except for updates on TV where the familiar colours of Captain America flew past. Seeing Steve’s name flash up on his phone not only made his insides flutter, but also soothed a worry he’d not really been aware of carrying so tightly. 

**Steve:** Hey Buck. It’s Steve. Sorry for the radio silence, I only just got home and I forgot to take my phone. Hope you’re well.

Bucky smirked at Steve’s formal text, before looking up and gaining the bartenders’ attention to order their drinks. Steve was adorable when awkward, he’d thought it before and he would continue to think it. He decided it best not to shock Steve with his atrocious butchering of the English language which was his texting default, and formalled up himself.

**Sent:** I’m great thanks, just out having drinks with a friend! How on earth do you forget your phone? 

**Sent:** Also don’t ever drink tequila

**Sent:** Glad you’re back safe

Bucky read over his replies a couple of times, trying to see if he’d somehow embarrassed himself in any way. He was relatively happy with his mundane words, but wondered at the last minute if he should have tried to be flirty. But they weren’t like that, and there was no indication in Steve’s text which would lead Bucky to believe he’d even welcome such behaviour. He thought it best to let Steve guide him on the tone they’d use to message each other. Especially as Bucky had been drinking and his judgement was waning… quickly.  _ Boy _ , tequila was potent.

He grabbed the bourbons he’d ordered, leaving a tip in the jar and was back with Darcy in seconds.

“Alright, spill - I saw you on your phone. So who’s got you smiling like you’ve just been gifted a full night with a fifteen inch schlong attached to a model?”

“Really? Schlong? Who even says that?”

“I do. And don’t deflect.”

Bucky sighed, and took a long pull of his bourbon, ignoring Darcy’s gaze which clearly indicated she knew he was  _ still _ deflecting. He just wasn’t sure how much he could reveal to her. Obviously he couldn’t say he was pretending to date Captain America, she would  _ not _ be able to keep that under her hat, and Sam would be on the phone in seconds demanding to meet him, even if he didn’t see Darcy use her cell. But he could embellish things a little.

“I just met a new friend. That’s all.”

Darcy eyed him, “Uh-huh. A Friend? And yes I capitalized it. Is that what we’re calling them these days? It’s the guy from the other night right? What’s his name?”

”Steve,” Bucky didn’t hesitate, it was a common name after all.

“Huh - like Captain America?”

Bucky choked on his drink, placing the offending glass down on the table with a jerk. “What?”

“His name. It’s the same as Cap’s. Have you been living under a rock? Everyone knows that.” She rolled her eyes at him before proceeding to skull half her drink, smacking her lips when she finished. Bucky meanwhile, was trying to stem the internal bleeding he’d sustained from sudden whiplash.

“Oh, right.” he managed, voice strained. “I guess my Steve's a blonde too,” he paused a second. He really liked the way that sounded,  _ his  _ Steve.

Darcy smiled wolfishly, “oh really? And where did you meet your  _ Friend _ Steve?”

He ignored the dig and finished his drink, “funny story actually… you’ll appreciate this.”

Within minutes Darcy was gasping for air, slapping the table very dramatically, but Bucky was cracking up too. Telling the real tale on how he met Steve without giving his identity away was enlightening. It was good to share part of the truth, because if he didn’t, he knew he would have burst at the most inopportune moment. Of course he didn’t tell Darcy about pretending to date this man called Steve, or that they met at Stark Tower, but he was allowed to keep some cards against his chest.

“And you just said it straight back like an idiot?”

“It’s reflex. Say it," he coaxed.

Darcy sighed dramatically, then deadpanned, "I love you."

"I love you too. See?”

“You’re an even bigger dolt than I thought, but you’re entertaining which is why I keep you around.” Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, she smiled toothily, “when can I meet this gorgeous specimen, we need to gang up on what a brainless fool you can be when confronted with a pretty face.”

Bucky felt his genuine smile turn slightly brittle. He couldn’t introduce them, even though a part of him itched to see Steve try and interact with Darcy, it would be equal parts hilarious and cringy. But that was the issue with their arrangement, they hadn't actually talked about it yet. “Uh, it’s early days, I don’t want to scare him off yet.”

Darcy shrugged with agreement, “true that, but soon - promise.”

“Promise.” He echoed hollowly, then against his better judgment went and ordered a round of tequila shots, much to Darcy’s delight.

Stumbling into a cab many hours later, he fumbled saying his address, managing to indicate broadly at least the vicinity of his apartment and scowled at the dry laugh the cabbie gave him. Grabbing his wallet in anticipation to pay, his phone fell out too, and he realised in all of the drinking and conversations with Darcy, he’d stopped checking for Steve’s reply after the first hour. Shutting one eye to focus better, he opened his phone.

“Yes,” he yelled, fist pumping the air and almost dislodging the phone from his grip. He juggled it a second before clamping a hand around it, making the screen turn off.

“What’s that, Champ?” the cabbie called from the front.

“Hot guy texted me!” He replied in triumph.

The chuckle and ‘good on ya’ he received made him grin again.

Unlocking the screen, he held the phone close to his face before moving it back until he hit the sweet spot where it wasn’t blurry.

**Steve:** It’s been a long time since someone’s said that to me. Not about tequila but coming back safe. So thanks. You’re right, I won’t forget my phone again. Not now I have a reason to take it with me. 

**Steve:** I’d like to see you again. We have a few things to go over. Are you free tomorrow?

Bucky grinned widely at the words then quickly locked his phone, knowing he shouldn’t reply when fifteen sheets to the wind, else send back something inappropriate. Of course his immediate thought of an inappropriate text was taking a picture of his junk in the back of a cab. But he was a very classy man - Bucky had never sent a dick pic ever. Well, not unsolicited, or to a superhero he was fake dating at any rate. 

His resolve not to look at the text again lasted all of a minute, lining up with his current attention span perfectly, so he opened the conversation, rereading what Steve had written. Was he indicating the reason to take his phone on missions now - was Bucky? Was that what that meant? And he wanted to see Bucky again? Tomorrow? Yes freaking please.

Then all he remembered next was paying the driver who said something about ‘having a good night’, before falling into bed fully clothed. Phone clutched in his hand.

The next morning Bucky groggily turned off his alarm, then managed to sit upright, even though there was an axe lodged in his frontal lobe. He sat breathing through his nose for a moment until the wash of stale alcohol infiltrated his senses, so he changed to mouth breathing. It wasn’t any better as he could almost taste the residual tequila and lemon. 

Sitting blearily for a second, gathering any wits he could scrounge up whilst simultaneously cursing Darcy Lewis to her very core, he noticed his phone on the pillow next to where his head had been. He felt bile rise with the half remembrance of sending a text when he fell heavily into bed.

Oh Christ. There  _ was _ a text, and Bucky felt all the blood leave his body as he read it. 

**Sent:** 2mrw is a go. Free anytime, ur’s or mine? Cant w8 4 BJ!!! <3

Oh shit,  _ oh shit on a stick _ . Bucky clearly meant to type B5, not...  _ Oh god _ . 

Mortified beyond belief, he couldn’t believe that he’d somehow made Steve mentioning he wanted to start watching Babylon 5 next time they saw each other, as he’d enjoyed Star Trek, into something so… dirty. Bucky was going to die, and that was even before he’d started to obsess over the heart he’d slapped on the end. What the hell? There was no way Steve was going to message him back. He’d basically said he couldn’t wait to blow the poor guy.

Bucky was never going drinking with Darcy again.

Then his phone started to ring.

“Oh hell no.” Bucky almost dropped the phone.

Steve was calling.

Ringing.

To converse.

With him.

He was not prepared, mentally or otherwise for this conversation and vowed to let it ring out.

“Hello, Steve?” He had no resolve.

“Buck - how you feeling today buddy?” The warmth and teasing tone which came through the phone relaxing him minutely, but he was waiting for the guillotine to drop.

“I believe my brain is still coming online, might take a while. Past Bucky was a dick, he did not look after future Bucky at all.”

The deep rumble of laughter which came through the speakers affected him just as much as it did in real life. Steve could not be a real honest to god person, walking around breathing, conversing and laughing so sexily.

“I like that,” Steve said, “but I was ringing to let you know unfortunately we can’t meet today.”

Bucky’s heart fell into his feet, he knew it was coming, but had been living in that wonderful space called denial. “Oh, right - yeah I understand.”

“Yeah, sorry - SHIELD has a mission and the Avengers have been called up, I have a briefing in an hour.”

Bucky’s heart began its long travel back up his body to its rightful place, maybe Steve wasn’t ending the shortest agreement in history. “Hope everything is alright?”

“Yeah, just sometimes frustrating how my work is all centred on emergencies, and never scheduled so I can plan my life. But getting back to you - the hangover is pretty bad?”

“Stop poking at my lack of judgement like it’s a bruise,” he retorted, pleased at the huff of amusement.

“Just check your front door.” Steve said, and Bucky could hear movement in the background and the clacking of computer keys. Was he at work calling through to Bucky?

He managed to make it to his door, complaining the whole way on how old his bones were which made Steve retort, that his bones were  _ much _ older and he was still able to walk without whining, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from Bucky.

He opened his door to see a small parcel sitting just to the side, one which smelled delicious.

“Wha?” Bucky started.

“You got it?” Steve asked, voice hesitant.

Bucky picked up the bundle and made it back to his kitchen, “Yeah, I did - what is it…? Holy crap! Steve, you sent me breakfast burritos?”

“No, I sent you breakfast hangover burritos - there’s apparently a difference. Hope you like ‘em, Barton, err Hawkeye said you’d greatly appreciate them after a night on tequila.”

Bucky took a second to parcel that tidbit of information away. Steve talked about him to Hawkeye?  _ Oh _ , of course he did, they  _ were _ dating after all. He took a second to swallow the tinge of disappointment, but the waft of burrito soon made it disappear. He put Steve on speaker and unwrapped one bundle of deliciousness and took a large oversized bite.

“Oh my god. I love you.” He mumbled around a mouthful, meaning every single word in that moment as the tangy egg and bacon with sweet chili sauce hit his tastebuds.

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

Bucky’s brain fled for the second time that morning, and he swallowed his mouthful and grinned widely, “did you just quote Princess Bride at me? In context?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I  _ have _ been living in this wonderful futuristic world for a few years now.”

“No! No I’m not giving you crap. I just want to shake the hand of the person who made it a priority to watch  _ that _ particular movie - did they also pick out your jeans?”

Why, oh why, would he ask that? Things were going spectacularly well in the face of his horrendous texting blunder. Then he went and muffed it all up again by attempting to use his hungover brain. 

“Err, Clint again. For both things, you can shake his hand on Friday.”

Bucky gulped, for two reasons. One, Steve wanted to continue with their charade. And two, he was going to be in a room full of superheros, whilst pretending to be madly in love with one of them. Piece of cake.

“You still there?” Steve interrupted his fracturing thoughts. 

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’, “just eyeing this second burrito off - this is true love, Stevie.”

The swift inhale on the other end of the line, almost indiscernible but he heard it, then realised what he’d just outrightly called Captain America, it was far too familiar of him. Slapping a hand to his face, he waited to be called out on it. But Steve remained suspiciously quiet, so he said nothing, not wanting to draw attention to it or make it a big deal.

“Can I pick you up Friday?” Steve asked instead, quietly, distracted.

Bucky couldn’t help smiling to himself, stomach flipping over and not from the hangover. He’d blame the rush of gratitude on the fact he didn’t want to arrive at the Tower alone, and that Steve’s offer to escort him was polite and thoughtful so he was at ease meeting everyone, which for most people would be entirely overwhelming. Plus they might finally talk about what they were  _ actually _ doing. 

“Sure can, just let me know what time and I’ll be ready.”

“Will do. And hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you, even if a BJ is off the table.”

Bucky choked and burst into flames as Steve’s loud rambunctious laugh came through the speaker, “you’re a shit, how does no-one in the world know that Captain America is a damn shit? And who said it’s off the table smart guy?”

His brain caught up with his words and he forced out a laugh just as overt as Steve’s to prove it was a joke, missing Steve’s response. A joke - right. Give him less than a second and permission and he’d be kneeling before Steve, mouth open and waiting desperately for a taste.

Shifting against the kitchen bench, he began to stiffen at the thought of unfastening Captain America’s uniform to get at what he knew would be the prettiest dick in all of the world. Then hardened even more as he instead imagined sliding those damn jeans off Steve’s thick thighs, right there on his sofa where they had sat only a few nights earlier and spending an entire evening loving on him, worshipping him.  _ Shit. _

“See you Friday.” Steve broke through his wildly careening fantasy, voice slightly breathy and sounding strained, clearly he was distracted with his upcoming mission. Bucky had taken up too much of his time already.

“Absolutely, see you then.” They said their goodbyes and Bucky hit the disconnect button.

Bucky was left studying his silent phone for the longest moment, as if it held the secrets of the universe, before realising for the hundredth time they still hadn’t communicated about their fake-dating plans. He devoured the last burrito then headed towards his shower, gearing up for the most epic wank of his entire adult life. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter got away from me and might start to earn this story a tag of ‘trope monster’ (in a way... and by that, I mean, it's really heading down that path). Not sure if I want to apologise or to wallow in the indulgence that it is for a bit…
> 
> The thanks I have is nowhere near big enough for the lovely (amazing!) comments and all the kudo’s and bookmarks you've gifted me and this story! And also a huge shout out to everyone else reading along too - you’ve all made this journey an absolute blast! :)
> 
> Enough from me - enjoy the following slab of words on boys being, well - oblivious!

Bucky perched precariously on a stool at his kitchen bench, half standing, half leaning; elbows pressed hard against the marble benchtop as he flicked through social media sites. Ones he’d only perused seconds before. It was frustrating to find no updated information to devour as he impatiently waited with butterflies creating a ruckus in his stomach. What was the point of having ten different social profiles if they didn’t help distract him? Wasn’t that their entire business model?

Sighing, he flicked his eyes up to the clock in his kitchen only to see the hands remained unchanged, time was being very disobliging. Standing up, he began to pace the room aimlessly while scrolling his phone. Bucky was the absolute worst when it came to waiting.

With nothing left to do to counteract the listlessness and nervous ball of energy lodged in his chest, he looked down at his outfit; hoping for the fortieth time that hour it would pass muster with meeting the Avengers. 

Bucky tried to look at the clothes impartially, as if he hadn’t owned them for an age and seen them on a regular basis. He wore more black than probably polite outside of a funeral, but once upon a time, Darcy had ravaged his wardrobe to pick out these separate pieces, and said in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t get laid wearing them, then she would quit as his best friend. 

He got laid. 

He still had an asshole best friend.

Bucky was not digging too deep into his underlying intentions by wearing that exact outfit when seeing Steve again. The black ink jeans were the right side of snug, and still managed to fit over the top of his black boots which had a natural sole to break up the dark; the black round-necked t-shirt he paired it with, soft and not too tight to be obscene, yet showed off his muscles nicely. A large black peacoat completed the monochrome style, and his hair was floofy enough in height that he looked… well, he looked good. Good enough to meet some of the most famous people in the world? Only time would tell.

Bucky was  _ never _ uncertain of his appearance, he was relatively confident, had received more than his fair share of compliments and stares over the years, but there was something about interacting with Steve that made him second guess everything.  _ Damn it _ , the sooner he admitted he wanted Steve to take notice of him, and not only notice, but  _ like _ what he saw, things would settle down. Right?

Sliding a hand over his face hard, he breathed deeply, calmly, trying to reassert some control to the situation.

“You’re about to meet Black Widow,  _ as _ the boyfriend of Captain America,” he breathed, then cringed. He was not ready for this.

Of course it was the exact moment Steve texted he was waiting outside. It was too late. He was committed. Hyperventilating would not help the situation, so he locked the door and counted his footsteps in time with his heartbeat. He made it downstairs in record time.

Walking out into the brisk early evening air, he couldn’t help stall his steps at the huge black brand new SUV sitting in front of his building, at least he’d blend in with the interior. The passenger window slid down smoothly and inside sat probably the most intimidatingly handsome man of the century.

“Hey Buck,” Steve drawled as he leaned across the interior, aviator sunglasses sliding down his nose so Bucky unintentionally saw those clear blue eyes linger ever so slightly on him as he jumped in. He fastened his seatbelt with a snap before looking over, forgetting how absolutely magnetizing Steve was in the flesh. His heart raced. God’s, it was akin to being sixteen and sneaking out for a tryst with the schools most popular jock. Not that Bucky lived that experience, though he imagined it would be terribly similar.

But Steve wasn’t looking his way anymore, he was facing straight ahead, knuckles a little white on the steering wheel and cheeks pink. It  _ was _ a little warm in the car, maybe he should have taken the jacket off before he got in.

“Steve,” Bucky said in greeting, hoping he’d not taken too long to respond. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Pleasure. Can’t leave my best guy without a ride.”

Bucky flushed at the way Steve rattled off the line without missing a beat, like it was something natural, his true thoughts. Maybe Bucky’s first impression was skewed, Steve might actually be a passable actor. He might need to up his game.

"Starting early, hey?” he managed to say evenly.

“Huh?” Steve glanced his way puzzled for a second before seamlessly merging into traffic. It was busy on the roads as always - they lived in the most frantic city in the world after all; which would be why Steve seemed confused, he’d only be half listening to Bucky.

“With the couple talk. You preparing us for the big meet?” He clarified as Steve narrowly passed a cyclist, then gunned it through the next set of traffic lights. Seemed he was also a bit of a lead foot, it didn’t shock Bucky in the least.

Bucky had a license but rarely drove, which was the flimsy reasoning behind his stolen glances at Steve as he expertly navigated the large vehicle with ease, and knowing Steve had only been driving for a handful of years meant his mastery behind the wheel was impressive, so very competent, and that hit a  _ big _ kink. That and the fact Steve’s muscled thigh tensed up each time he changed gears and braked, making things further up tighten and...  _ nope _ . 

Bucky averted his hungry gaze to look out the window before him, not letting his eyes roam after that. Of course his mind decided to land on the infamous BJ conversation and seeing those damn thighs up close meant he craved them, could picture them wrapped around his head as he sucked Steve down. His jeans constricted and Bucky shifted in his seat trying to disguise his reaction from lusting after the man next to him. Christ, his new  _ friend _ next to him - he kept forgetting that part. 

“Oh,” Steve finally replied, breaking the stupor of lust which shrouded Bucky, before sparing another quick unreadable glance at him as he came to a stop in traffic, “yeah… of course, preparation is key.”

Bucky would argue they’d done nothing at all to prepare, but Steve didn’t seem concerned, so he’d once again follow his lead.

Before he could ask if they  _ had _ a plan, an endgame for what they were doing, what they were pretending, Steve launched into an anecdote on how a few years earlier Clint had found a stray dog who happened to follow him on an entire operation and inadvertently saved his life; because he bent down to pat him, just as a bullet smashed into the wall right where his head had been.

“And so that’s how Lucky joined the tribe,” he said, “man I love that dog, love all dogs actually.”

Bucky smiled fondly, he could tell. Steve had more affection in his voice when talking about Lucky than with anything else they’d touched on - barring his mother of course. There was a whole different level of emotion when it came to Sarah. Though Bucky realised he probably shouldn’t be comparing Steve’s mother to Clint’s dog.

“What’s that smile for?” Steve asked and Bucky baulked at answering truthfully.

“Oh nothing, just wondering what they know about me?”

“Who?” Steve said distractedly as he ran an amber light, an involuntary bubble of laughter escaped Bucky, everything was a little surreal.

“The  _ other _ Avengers.”

Steve ran a hand over the back of his neck, scratching lazily and Bucky took a moment to watch, realising suddenly it was a tell of Steve’s. Whether it be nerves, embarrassment or something else he wasn’t sure.

“Oh, them… right.”

“Yeah -  _ them _ , have you actually said anything?” Bucky wasn’t annoyed at all, but he was hoping deep down Steve had been gushing about his new beau - seemed he enjoyed living on fantasy island. Maybe though, Steve was worried Bucky was going to screw up? Say the incorrect thing? Make him look like a fool?

At Steve’s continual silence, which Bucky assumed meant he’d  _ not _ spoken to them, and with a mounting sense of unease he asked, “look, honestly, we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable? I totally get it, if you’ve changed your mind, that is. You can turn around and take me home, it  _ is _ all a little -”

“- no! Buck, just no - that’s not…” Steve glanced at the side mirror, then looked over his shoulder to his blind spot before taking an exit, they were nearing the Tower. “Honestly, sorry, It’s just…” he stopped and sighed heavily.

Without thought, Bucky reached over and grasped his forearm to squeeze it in comradery, to let Steve know sans words he was there, that it was alright, but instead of the wry understanding smile he was hoping to see, Steve jerked his gaze down, staring at Bucky's fingers clasped around his arm. His eyes then jumped to Bucky's face and a small sheen of red stained Steve’s cheeks, not sure what the reaction meant, Bucky quickly untangled his grip and placed his hand safely back in his lap, hearing the smallest noise escape Steve’s throat, one he couldn’t make heads nor tails of. God, unsolicited touch to a superhero was clearly something he needed to work on, he’d only been trying to give comfort and now felt like the biggest dope. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’okay,” Steve replied, a slight uptick in his voice as he glanced once more down at the spot Bucky had touched. Before Bucky could stumble over another poor excuse of an apology, Steve spoke, “I’m… I’m glad you said yes.”

“Oh?” He replied, knowing Steve was deflecting from his reaction and Bucky was oddly okay with it, he’d let Steve share and talk about things at his own pace. It was only fair.

“Yeah,” He paused a second, “I mean, at the time of asking I didn’t know how much we’d have in common, but you had a kind face, and I had a gut feeling you’d help me out of a,” he chuckled and did another swipe of his neck, yep, it was an absolute tell, “self-inflicted bind really. But, it’s easy to chat to you, really easy... and I know you’re not going to freak out when I admit that Tony  _ may _ have been the one to tell everyone about us. So anything I tried to say or amend afterwards sounded like I was just covering up a sex scandal.” 

The laugh which punched out of Bucky’s chest, eviscerating the worry which had started to fester on Steve’s reaction to his touch, “so a bunch of glorified lies and half truths embellished to make us look absurd then?”

“Probably.” Steve said with a grin, then licked his lips in a way that made Bucky forget religion existed, “it’s going to be much more interesting when people meet you and realise you’re not just gorgeous arm candy I’m lusting after desperately.”

Bucky’s brain scrambled as the heat of Steve’s offhand words slammed into him like a freight train careening out of control. He could only guess the sordid things Tony had teased and alluded to, and therefore the other Avengers would assume Steve was systematically taking Bucky apart with orgasms every moment he was able. The punch of sheer naked want in his gut at having Steve take control and have his way with Bucky, do what he pleased until he was a wrung out mess, left everything below his belt tight and throbbing. He was so screwed.

Deflecting from his thoughts of a naked Steve standing above him, he tried for humour, “not going to lie, pal. I’m brilliant arm candy - I can talk about handbags and hair products for hours.”

His joking words had the intended effect, Steve chuckled as Bucky assembled his libido and thoughts again. This was  _ not _ a real date. This was Steve taking him to meet the Avengers so he could show off his new boyfriend so they’d leave the poor man alone for a few minutes to actually figure out what he wanted in life. Of course Bucky was only human and for all his loud protestations in his head about keeping arms distance, he was madly trying to act unaffected. But there was something about Steve, something almost lonely and tinged with sadness and Bucky really wanted to help, and not just because he was lusting hard.

He might petition The Academy for an Oscar if he got out of this unscathed. 

The issue being - The Academy would deny him said Oscar, because Bucky was fairly certain he wasn’t acting - not well, at any rate.

They arrived at the Tower seconds later and Steve backed into a park with ease. Another bit of competency which made Bucky’s chest thrill. When the hell did  _ parking _ become the prelude to foreplay? But then as they got out of the car and strode towards the bank of elevators, he finally noticed Steve’s outfit and said a silent prayer for his dick, because it only worshipped one god now.

Even being a superserum creation of enhanced perfection, Steve had no excuse to be so unfairly attractive, no one man should hold that power - but he most definitely did. The expression ‘eye-fucking’ was coarse, but jesus, it encapsulated the way Bucky stared outright as Steve walked in front of him. The grey pants halfway between suit and chinos, and maybe Steve did have an inkling on what they did for his ass, especially the way he casually put both hands in his pockets as they walked, tightening the fabric. Bucky strangled out a cough and literally stumbled over his feet. 

“You right, bud?” Steve asked, suspiciously smug.

“Peachy,” he replied, voice cracking, and ripped his gaze from the most delectably firm looking ass in existence to stare at Steve’s black jumper instead; which fit perfectly to showcase broad shoulders and a wide chest (of course it did). Dropping his eyes to the ground, because surely that was safe, he saw the light brown oversized boots, which made the whole look outstandingly casual, yet smart. 

Bucky just wanted to rip every thread from Steve’s body until he was bare. 

Why had he agreed to this tomfoolery again?

They stepped into the familiar elevators, Steve immediately leaning on the wall, one leg crossed over the other in ease, glancing at Bucky in his peripheral while hiding a grin. Bucky was dying, he was certain Steve caught him ogling, which was why he was smirking. Bucky was lucky Steve wasn’t offended, because for a few moments there, once again, he’d honestly forgotten their deal, to be Steve’s backup, to be his friend - someone he could rely on to help him through the next little while. Bucky had to pinch himself mentally to remember, but honestly, what did Steve expect walking around dressed like that? He was allowed a lapse - or twenty.

Bucky caught a glimpse of his own flushed cheeks in the mirrored walls.  _ Great. _

“Good Evening, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.” JARVIS enunciated perfectly from the speakers.

“Bucky is fine,” he said without thinking, still fighting off his embarrassment.

“Noted, Sergeant Bucky.”

Steve laughed beside him, “Tony has programmed JARVIS to be contrary, it’s equal parts frustrating and amusing, especially when not aimed at me.”

Bucky scowled, then it occurred to him, “crap, Steve? How the hell did we meet?”

“I believe it was right here, Sir,” JARVIS sassed.

Rolling his eyes at an AI system was not his finest moment, nor was the way he said ‘smartass’, which gained a response on how donkeys were an integral part of the First World War effort and were in fact extremely smart.

Between Steve’s laughter, which delighted him to no ends, and his own misgivings of the situation, he still found time to panic, “I’m serious, you know they’re going to ask, and we can’t rely on whatever Tony’s made up.”

“Fair enough, you’re right of course. Okay, you told Tony we met in an elevator, right?” At Bucky’s quick nod, he smiled back and held his hands aloft, “so we stick with that, make it vague and say recently.”

“That sounds fair,” he breathed, feeling a little more at ease. But still annoyed he’d been so distracted each time they’d spoken or met up, they’d not even touched on the basics of what they were doing. It was a complete disarray of half thoughts and aborted motions to see what panned out, and the whole situation was suddenly a little terrifying in the face of what could be on the other side of the elevator doors when they opened. He ran a business, he wasn’t a damn spy.

“Where?” He suddenly barked.

Steve to his credit didn’t flinch, or ask for clarification, “how about the Met?”

“Okay,” he said more to himself, “that’s easy enough, I actually go there quite a lot.”

“What? You do?” Steve’s entire focus fixed on him, eyes lighting up in excitement and Bucky nodded dumbly, words left behind on a lower level as they passed it by. “We are definitely going there together, for real. It’s -”

The doors slid open as Bucky was trying to marry up what ‘for real’ meant in the scope of their dating, (did he mean as friends?) - when Steve grasped his forearm as he was about to take a step forward. The grip was firm and commanding, Bucky stopping in his tracks, turning so he faced Steve and awaited whatever directive came from lips too enticing to be real.

“Are you ok with me touching you?” 

Swallowing hard at the breathless yet loaded question, Bucky nodded as they recommenced walking, and tried hopelessly to wrest control over his raging emotions and yell into the void that was his common sense that it wasn’t real. So he was blaming the white noise in his head on failing to clarify if Steve was okay if Bucky touched him in return and instead blurted, “I think you’d better upgrade me to  _ best _ friend after this though.”

Steve paused his steps, and Bucky glanced over to see him look away quickly, a complicated expression smoothing out into blankness. “Yeah, I guess I’d better.” 

Before Bucky could clarify it was a joke and he didn't expect anything at all in return, Tony’s booming voice called out, “finally! Did you two stop to do funny business in the parking garage? And by funny business I mean sex.”

Steve’s huge arm snaked around his waist, yanking Bucky in tight and he lost all sense of directional faculties, he could have been standing on his head for all he knew. A waft of Steve’s aftershave smacked into Bucky’s senses and in a haze of heightened euphoria felt the deep rumble as Steve dripped with way too much sexual innuendo, “don’t be crass Tony, we stopped at my floor first for that.”

Then he proceeded to place a barely there kiss on Bucky’s temple.

Bucky was dead. 

D. E. A. D, dead.

It was a whirlwind of recognisable faces as he was introduced to all of Steve’s teammates in one large cacophony of noise. Each and every one of them vyed for Bucky’s attention even if only for a second, yelling questions, catcalling and teasing Steve good naturedly about how Bucky was too pretty for a guy like him. When Steve immediately agreed, and told everyone he was the luckiest guy on the planet to have stumbled over a catch like Bucky in an elevator of all places, Bucky blushed for a solid minute. And after ten minutes of being fawned over, Bucky was certain he’d stumbled through every simple word in the english language at least three times over. He was at the point he was just going to give up speaking for good. 

The only grounding constant that kept him sane in the unreality of meeting the Avengers, was Steve. Who quite frankly should have induced the most nerves. And he  _ did _ , but for a completely unrelated reason. The whole time they stood there, Steve’s large hand remained light against Bucky's lower back, barely there, more of a comforting sensation than possessiveness, though Bucky would have welcomed the latter, quite enthusiastically.

And even through all the backslapping, hand shakes and half hugs he received, because apparently all the Avengers were handsy, Bucky could  _ still _ feel the phantom sensation of the featherlight kiss Steve pressed against his skin.

Too many times he went to touch his temple, but Bucky didn't want to draw attention to it, nor for some unmitigated reason rub it away. Which was ludicrous because there was absolutely nothing there  _ to  _ rub away.

The unconscious kiss Steve bestowed on him left his blood thumping like an imminent bass drop, thuds exploding in his ears long after his lips had gone, and Bucky was eternally grateful that none of the Avengers had super hearing…  _ hang on _ \- did Steve? Oh God, he hoped not. And if so, surely it wasn't _ that _ good to pick up his heartbeat?

“You still okay?” Steve leaned over to whisper in Bucky’s ear, his wide chest pressed up against the line of Bucky’s back, dwarfing him - and how on earth could he answer that honestly? Yes, he was great, he’d never felt so welcomed anywhere in his life, but his nerves were slowly being stripped away and fraying at the edges because Steve Rogers was turning out to be the most attentive pretend boyfriend on the planet.

“I’m good,” He replied and high fived himself for sounding like an adult male. Then looking around for something to start a conversation with that wasn’t, ‘take me to your apartment and lick me open’ his eyes landed on Hawkeye. “Clint is brilliant isn’t he?”

Steve took a small step back, allowing Bucky to breath normally for a moment, “honestly, he’s been great to me. We’re such different people, but it works, and I have no idea how he manages to pay rent or remember to put pants on most of the time, though he fails at that at least twice a week…”

They both glanced over to see Clint in a wild conversation with Bruce, hands flailing everywhere and big gestures including leaping and jumping. For someone who could choose clothing out for Steve which stole the very life force from Bucky’s cells, he certainly didn’t look in a mirror - or maybe he did and was comfortable within himself, which was all kinds of brilliant. He was wearing loose sweats riddled with holes, one large enough at the back you could see his undershorts and a purple t-shirt with a picture of Darth Vader walking an AT-AT. The shirt was actually pretty cool, though a bit on the bright side.

“See you  _ do _ have friends.” Bucky teased, and immediately wanted to snatch the words back, he didn’t mean for it to sound like Steve shouldn’t have asked for his friendship too; or that he was making fun of Steve wanting to branch out, meet new people, no matter how unorthodox. It was a little douchey of Bucky. “Though you can’t have too many right?”

“Right.” Steve stated, attention now elsewhere and he took another step back.

Bucky deflated, feeling a sharp chill as Steve’s body heat moved further away.  _ Damn it. _

“Come on over and meet Scott properly, I think you’ll really like him.” Steve walked off, leading the way as Bucky trailed after him a little morosely, he’d not meant to offend, and honestly he wasn’t sure if that was the case or if Steve really wanted him to meet Scott. 

But within seconds of Scott starting up a story on his daughter, Cassie, Steve had loosened up, laughing openly before his arm curled around Bucky’s shoulder comfortably, naturally and Bucky felt something shift inside of him, realigning at the rightness of Steve’s touch. So caught off guard at the sensation, Bucky stalled in his thoughts and said the same sentence three times, much to Scott’s delight. Apparently it was nice to meet someone else that rambled, Bucky felt a tug of unmitigated jealousy in case Scott’s was also caused by Steve’s touch.

And that’s when Bucky began to take notice.

Steve didn’t actively reach out often, hardly at all - there was a little of the usual back slapping, and pushes of shoulders that you’d expect in a close team, but nothing longer than a second or two, and in return, Bucky noticed the same from the others. Apart from the barest of touches, which Steve seemed to somewhat lean into, it appeared that a polite distance was unconsciously maintained on every front. He wondered if the Avengers had noticed that no one really entered Steve’s personal space and he didn’t generally breach anyone else’s. 

Except Bucky’s.

So much so that Bucky was on the verge of self-combusting into a small pile of ash on the floor.

“You’re a little too quiet... overwhelmed yet?” And there he was, close up against Bucky’s ear again so the others couldn’t hear. A warm arm snuck around Bucky’s waist once more as Steve’s fingers splayed over his hip and the genuine concern riding his voice rendered Bucky speechless for a moment. “Do you want to go?”

Bucky looked up into sincere blue eyes, knowing right in that moment if he said yes, then no questions, Steve would lead him out of there. But, no, he didn’t want to leave, if only because it would shorten their night together. “No way, Stevie. I’ve been promised a movie night and I really want to see what cinematic masterpiece they choose to further your education. I mean I feel like you have a fair way to go to integrate properly.”

“You’re worse than Tony.” He said back with a delicious quirk to his mouth, which softened into something altogether different after a second. “You know that’s the second time you’ve done that.”

“What?”

“Called me Stevie.”

“Oh,” Bucky faltered, suddenly finding words hard to formulate, for only the ninetieth time that evening. He couldn’t tell if Steve was pleased or not at the slip of his tongue, he was just too much of a Stevie sometimes. “Err, I’m sorry, it kind of slipped out and -”

“- no, I mean, it’s okay - I like it. It’s nice.” 

Bucky watched as Steve ducked his head, almost as if halfway embarrassed at admitting it or flattered. It was only then Bucky felt Steve’s thumb at his hip starting to stroke small motions. Up and down, over and over. Leaving a pathway of scalding shivers behind.

And it wasn’t like Steve was being overt or obvious about it, and as Bucky’s scrambled brain tried to form a coherent sentence, he realised there was no specific person Steve was trying to impress the fact he had a real, live, boyfriend on. It seemed he was covering all bases in case somebody happened to glance their way. It was in fact, a good plan - they  _ were _ supposedly in the honeymoon phase and Steve most definitely acted like he couldn't get enough of Bucky. 

Trouble was, Bucky was actually starting to believe it, and he  _ knew _ that wasn’t the case.

Thank god those lips hadn’t made a return pass on Bucky’s skin, he might have stripped off naked and begged Steve to take him in front of everyone with no compunction nor shame.

Bucky was seriously underprepared to date Steve publicly.

Over the course of the rest of the evening, Bucky couldn’t help but catalogue every time Steve’s hand cupped his elbow, pressed against his lower back, shoulder lightly bumping his as they stood together, it was constant and should have been unremarkable. It was anything but. 

Steve didn’t hesitate to touch at all, not even once, and compounded with the soft smiles as he looked to Bucky when he made a joke or was gushing about Bucky’s unparalleled skills in the kitchen and that what he was trying to do for veterans was exemplary, had Bucky practically thrumming out of his skin. His senses were heightened to such a degree he knew he’d be exhausted for days from coming down, and wondered why Steve was so tactile with him. It could have been something as simple as showing the others that they were the real deal, but Bucky was on the verge of perishing from overstimulation and there didn't appear to be any release in sight.

Soon, much to Bucky’s relief, he found himself deep in conversation with Pepper about his upcoming start with their application, while Steve wandered off to chat to Thor and Bruce - allowing Bucky to finally come back into his senses. And after a while when Pepper excused herself to organise the dessert delivery for the movie, Bucky found himself blessedly alone for the first time. He was proud of how he’d managed to hold his own (relatively) with the others. Not one of them appeared to be disingenuous or full of ego, Tony aside, but honestly Bucky was actually starting to see that Tony was all wind and bluster on the outside, and actually cared about his comrades, his friends. Though he could see why Steve craved outside companionship, they were all too invested in each other’s lives, and the more Bucky observed, the more he knew he’d made the right decision to help Steve out.

If all he could offer was another sounding board, a person for Steve to come visit to get away and watch crappy science fiction and quality documentaries with, then sure. If Bucky happened to get physical comfort while in front of others, then he’d selfishly take it, and never tell Steve how  _ much _ he got from it.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, Bucky didn’t even flinch when Natasha sidled up to him.

Blinking once, as if coming out of a trance, he found himself looking down into green knowing eyes and watched a smirk slowly spread across her face. Bucky had a sinking sensation she'd already read every single thought in his head about Steve (good and naughty) _ and  _ knew his social security number.

He was going to have to pack up his belongings and relocate to a different planet after this was said and done.

“So, you’re the mystery man who's rendered our illustrious leader into a sap who follows you around like a puppy.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a mystery, pretty much an open book,” Bucky started, then smiled, “and don’t let Tony hear you say Steve’s the leader.” 

Natasha laughed, her voice tinkling like bells, he wasn't certain if he should be flattered or terrified. “I  _ was _ talking about Tony.”

Bucky chuckled, he hadn't failed to notice Tony keeping an eye on him during the evening, he’d followed Bucky around closely, especially when his coat had come off and he gazed longingly at Bucky’s metal prosthetic like a typical engineer. In the way that indicated the first chance he got, he’d rip it off Bucky’s body and study it intently.

“Should I be concerned he is going to slip me something then steal my arm?”

“Potentially,” Natasha smirked, “just don't drink his homemade whiskey and you should survive, arm intact."

Bucky smiled, internally begging himself to act cool, and not fazed while talking to someone he’d greatly admired for many years. Though in the end it only took five minutes of conversation for Bucky to feel like he’d known Natasha for years. It was odd, he’d always had the impression she was cold, hard and wouldn't warm up to new people. But here they were, joking lightly, Bucky watching the way she smiled quickly and often as they spoke about everything from the other Avengers to their shared experience living in Budapest, albeit at different times and for different reasons.

He suddenly wondered if Natasha was working him over, and eyed her contemplatively from behind his glass as he took a sip.

“ _ Ah _ , there you go, cottoned on have you?” She said with a lazy grin.

“It’s not nice to haze the new guy.”

“Honestly, not hazing you. Steve told me I was your favourite and I wanted to see what you were like when not nervously spouting facts about how to make sourdough bread.”

Bucky laughed, not offended, and he was only nervous because Steve had been stroking a thumb over his wrist at the time. “I’ll have you know, making sourdough is actually a complicated process. And I think you may get piqued at the post with my top spot, Steve’s coming in close.”

“I bet he is,” she murmured, making him internally facepalm at his terrible banter.

“I guess he gets it by default now.” He tried to cover.

"I don't doubt it," Natasha said enigmatic. “He’s good with you.”

He had to stop for a second, not one hundred percent sure what she meant and glanced down for clarification, only to see her attention further afield on Steve, Thor and Bruce who were chatting together.  _ Right _ .

“Steve?”

“He's comfortable. In all the years I’ve known him, I've never seen him as relaxed as he has been the last week or so. He looks happy, content in this life for the first time since he woke up.”

Swallowing tightly, Bucky’s stomach lurched at her words. “Oh.”

Natasha turned her head up towards him, a perfectly manicured brow arched, and gulping he realised there was no way he’d be able to half ass this situation with her. Natasha, to her credit was incredibly switched on, he had no doubt she’d probably already seen through his horrendous acting and had mentally picked apart their flimsy facade.

“He, uh, well, likewise for me - except the waking up part.”

Humming into her drink, clearly thinking on his words she took a sip, the soft aroma of spices and cinnamon infiltrated his senses, where did she get a chai latte from? Bucky eyed the kitchen area, could he escape to get something sweet and avoid screwing up Steve’s plan by accidently letting the truth slip out to one of the greatest spies in the world? He probably needed more of a barrier than a hot drink.

“So the fact he’s an Avenger isn't a reason why you’re here? Dating for the fame and glory of being with Captain America?”

Bucky wanted to be offended, truly he did, but he’d been expecting this line of questioning from somebody, and was thankful it wasn’t Tony in front of everyone.

“Natasha, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to be brutally honest with you for a moment.”

Her eyes lit up with something that finally looked like interest, and she nodded once, pleased. Bucky hoped she wasn’t going to assassinate him afterwards.

“Not that it is any of your business at all,” she continued to watch him closely, “for me, personally, it would be infinitely easier and more preferable if Steve was just a regular Joe I'd met at my local gym. A normal guy who worked a shitty job downtown that he hated, and we’d get to live a boring mundane life going out for dinner, watching dodgy tv shows and sleeping curled up every night together. I’ve had my own fair share of ‘fame’ when I came back from… look, I don’t want it, I don’t crave it at all and I’d hazard a guess and say neither does Steve.”

He took a second to look up and found his eyes lingering on Steve as they had non-stop since he’d met him. Natasha didn’t break the silence and he was grateful for it.

“But… living a mundane life - that's not Steve, this is Steve.” He gestured around to everyone, the Tower then towards the man himself, who was in deep conversation. “He was born to help, to save people, even if he wanted to do so silently, that’s not how it is.”

Steve’s story was gaining momentum by the looks, as he was pretending to stab something. Bucky cocked his head and Natasha followed suit as they tried to silently figure out what he was doing. Steve looked up when he felt eyes on him and gave Bucky a soft smile and a little shrug before launching into another skewering movement. Just that small gesture twisted something deep within Bucky. Having such a private and intimate look directed at him alone was almost unfathomable.

“Steve is a hero, a National hero, _hell,_ a Worldwide one and I understand completely that I have to share him.” And mustering all the sincerity he could, he continued, trying to ignore the way Natasha’s focus was riveted on him and his words, “I’ll accept anything he can willingly give me, no matter how small it might be, and I’ll be there in any capacity he needs. It’s a promise I made myself when this all started. And I would be very obliged if you didn’t ask me such stupid questions in the future and kept your nose out of our business.”

The worn out feeling almost eclipsed the fear that he’d spoken to Natasha in such a way. But he needed her to back off, he’d been more truthful than necessary and said things not intended to hit the light of day and even though he’d meant every single word, he wasn’t ready to delve deeper to try and really understand them. Or have Steve hear them.

All he knew was that Steve was relying on him, needed him to be his friend, the person who stood up for him at all times and Bucky could absolutely do that -  _ even _ to his friends. But already within only a few meetings the lines were astoundingly blurred, for Bucky at any rate.

When he finally glanced down at Natasha, he was surprised to find she was staring back at him thoughtfully, not at all angered or upset by his words. If anything, she seemed to be impressed.

He let out a long silent breath of relief.

Natasha finished her drink and swore that as the cup met her lips she whispered ‘idiots’, he shrugged it off, because Clint was now trying to goad Thor into a wrestle and she must have seen that.

“Noted, James.”

“You can call me Bucky.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied matter of fact.

He laughed, seeing Steve from the corner of his eye look over sharply, “you know what, I think you’d get along with Sam, he also likes to tell me no about almost everything.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, “I'll admit, Sam Wilson is extremely cute, we might get along.”

Bucky couldn’t help the suck of shocked breath, “What? How do you know him? God, have you met before?”

“Oh, you sweet naive boy, as if I didn't pull a full background check on you and your friends the minute Steve said you were dating.”

“Huh. I don't know whether to be offended or impressed, mainly offended I think though.”

Patting his cheek like an errant school boy, she pinched the soft skin, eliciting a small gasp from him and smiled blindingly. Oh boy, Natasha Romanoff was an extroidinarily alluring and bewitching female, he was suddenly very glad to be gay.

“You're super cute when indignant, Steve better watch out or the other boys in the yard might snap you up.”

“What?” he asked, completely confused, which to be fair was his default for most of the evening.

“Never mind Einstein, you’ll get there. Also,” She paused for a second, “Darcy is very cute too, so feel free to set me up with either or both at the same time, I’m not fussed.” Then she patted his arm before pulling his head down to leave a lingering kiss to his cheek; as he reeled at her words.

As she sashayed away, leaving Bucky gaping unattractively like a fish thinking about Darcy, Sam  _ and  _ her, he saw Steve staring over at him. He did not look happy, in fact, his mouth was turned down as he looked from Bucky to Natasha.

Bucky meanwhile felt as if he’d just undergone an interrogation, one he wasn’t aware of participating in. Natasha was very good,  _ or _ very bad - the jury was still out. He needed a mug of chai or similar. Seeing Bruce walk into the kitchen he followed, he seemed to be a fella who’d be good at recommending a soothing herbal tea, and Bucky completely forgot about Steve for a moment.

Bucky soon found himself sitting in a huge plush single seater sofa chair, chai in hand and feeling like part of the gang in an abstract way. The other Avengers were readying themselves for a movie, some in the kitchen preparing snacks, others finding the best seat while Bucky silently watched the proceedings with a veneer of disbelief that he was  _ actually _ there.

Clint perched himself on the arm of Bucky’s chair and was explaining how on the last Friday of every month they did dinner and a movie, usually to get Steve up to speed on pop culture. Bucky loved the sentiment and the fact it was a thinly veiled excuse for them to hang out together for non-work related reasons.

“Although it’s Thor’s choice tonight, so who knows what we’ll get. Last time he made us sit through Sharknado, and by  _ made _ us, I mean - I was all in, right up against the TV - it was so good! Anyway, he wanted to see it because he’d battled something similar before on a planet near his home.”

“Really?” Bucky asked, slightly horrified, not just at the movie choice, but at the idea of a real Sharknado.

“Apparently so, I don’t know, I’m pretty bummed I didn’t get to see it, or visit Asgard.” He slid a slice of steaming hot pizza into his mouth and chewed noisily. Bucky was impressed, not because he was able to fit the whole slice in with only two bites, but the fact they had Indian for dinner and there was no pizza in sight. “Yeah, I always miss the cool stuff.”

Bucky made a noise which he hoped Clint took as commiserating, he couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving the planet to fight monsters in a twister. Fighting other humans on earth was enough to put him off for life, yet a part of him knew if he was called up to help with an interplanetary war, he’d be the first to volunteer. In the scope of his life, he’d never met anyone who’d left terrafirma - now he found himself surrounded. Things really  _ could _ take a turn in only one week.

“Move it, Barton.” Steve’s voice came from behind Bucky, and he twisted around to see Steve’s glorious bulk fill his view as Barton harrumphed that he never got to play with the new kid.

Expecting Steve to pull up a chair, or at the very least sit on the arm as Clint had been, Bucky was absolutely gobsmacked when almost 200 pounds of American beefcake slid into the space next to him, making Bucky list to the side and almost spill his tea. Apart from the fact he was desperately trying not to hyperventilate at having so much  _ Steve _ pressed up against him with little to no notice, he was also trying to school his features to show that he was used to having Steve as a veritable human pillow. He most definitely was not used to it. But he really wanted to be.

Steve somehow with all of his bulk managed to slide in sideways on the large single seater, leaning on his right hip, curling his upper body with an arm resting on the top of the sofa, which meant Bucky who’d slid down in the seat had his head almost resting against Steve’s pectoral, a huge meaty mouthwatering slab of -

“ - this okay?” Steve leaned down to whisper, and Bucky couldn’t help the solid physical shiver which wracked his body as the puff of air hit his cheek.  _ No, _ it most definitely was not alright, because his confused senses wanted nothing more than to lick a hot wet stripe up the side of Steve’s neck - and couldn’t. 

For reasons.

“Yeah, fine.” He practically husked, wanting to desperately ask if  _ Steve _ was okay with it, because there was no way Bucky could avoid touching him like this, and all he could think about was Steve’s strange reaction to Bucky’s hand on his arm in the car. But, honestly, if Steve was the one to jump on him, then too bad if Bucky happened to reach out, because Steve Rogers was just going to have to put up with it. 

“What’s the movie tonight?” Pepper asked Thor, red wine in hand as the Asgardian sprawled out on one of the long sofas, beer stein resting on his thigh and remote control nearby.

“It looks to be a story of brave warriors coming together to fight against oppression and also to make some coin on the side.”

Bucky, still trying to grapple with a sense of self, because Steve had shifted to look over at Pepper which meant he felt muscles rippling against his back, shut his eyes for a moment to control his breathing. He was not going to be able to last the whole movie, he could feel how stiff he was holding himself, and knew Steve could tell because of the small crinkles of concern in the corners of his eyes as he turned to look down at Bucky. How on earth was his eyelashes natural, they were impossibly long.

But his awkward stance made him feel like a heel, none of it was Steve’s fault. It was Bucky’s inability to compartmentalise his wants against Steve’s needs.

The title for the movie displayed when Thor hit play, and Bucky snorted out a laugh, because most of the others were still preparing themselves and only Nat, Pepper, Thor, Steve and he were in the room. It almost made him forget he was pressed up against his walking talking fantasy.

“Um... Thor? Do you realise what this movie is -”

“- hush you.” Natasha hissed at him and he shut his mouth and smiled when he saw Scott come in from the background shaking his head indecipherably at them. _ Oh well _ , he’d not actually seen it, but there was a first for everything.

“Magic Mike?” Steve murmured in his ear, making his eyes glaze over a second at the low cadence. “Looks like a movie about strippers.”

Bucky couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up. “It is,” he replied quietly, thrilled when Steve cracked up silently, their bodies shaking together in a shared moment. He caught Natasha watching them and ducked his head to finish his chai, so he could place the cup next to the chair. He then leaned back so his spine was almost flush with Steve’s chest - almost, he kept himself forward just a little. The scant inch between them for his sanity’s sake.

By the time everyone else came back amid moans and groans about the choice of movie, Bucky was working himself up into quite the state. He had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands. Well, he knew what he wanted to do, and even though Steve had been systematically taking Bucky apart with touch all night, Bucky had yet to touch him in return. 

God, Bucky was thinking way too much into it - he should just turn around and tuck his arm across Steve’s chest, it was the most practical thing to do since he was holding himself aloft, stiff, and he’d get a backache if he kept trying to not lean into Steve. Plus, they were together right? Snuggling on the couch during a movie was a right of passage in any relationship.

It took until quarter of the way through the movie for Bucky to shift so he faced Steve, then another ten minutes to reach out tentatively to press between their bodies so his hand lay against Steve’s side. He didn’t reach out to hug across Steve’s broad chest like he was psyching himself up for, but the balled up fist lightly resting on Steve’s peck was a start. 

He was expecting the jolt of pure desire to fill  _ his _ every pore, but he wasn’t expecting Steve to stiffen up to such a degree that Bucky wrenched his hand away, only for it to be caught in Steve’s firm grip before it went too far, then slowly pulled back to press against his side in the same position as before. It was when Steve’s palm pressed over Bucky’s and stayed there, that he felt Steve’s hand shaking, the tremor running through it soft, but constant and Bucky held his breath. What was happening?

Seconds later, though it felt like hours, Steve removed his hand to leave Bucky half breathless, thoughts racing through the cracks in his mind. A wild inkling began to scratch at his peripheral so he tried something else. He splayed his hand out, fingers doing no more than graze Steve’s chest, just under his peck yet still over his jumper, but he felt it. The jerky pulse of Steve’s heart as it ratcheted up a notch. Pretending in the most unsubtle way to stretch, Bucky slid his hand even further across, not much, but enough to feel Steve catch his breath once more, and sense the fine vibration under his hand.

He flicked his eyes up only to find Steve staring at the TV resolutely, unflinchingly like Magic Mike was the greatest war story ever told and to miss a minute would mean disaster. So Bucky decided to further test his theory and lightly scratched his little finger against the soft fabric, seeing the muscles in Steve’s cheek twitch wonderfully. Yet it was only when Bucky finally made his grand move and slid his arm all the way across Steve’s body, that he practically melted into Bucky’s embrace.

Within seconds, all of Steve’s hesitations seemed to disappear as he turned into Bucky, and letting out a small noise, he found his cheek falling against Steve’s chest. Oh, it was nice, more than nice, it was perfect, and then Steve’s arm which previously lay against the top of the chair, moved to rest around Bucky’s back and he was suddenly in a cuddle of epic proportions. 

It was an experience never to be repeated as they both minutely shifted, testing, seeing how their bodies fit against each other for the first time. Bucky had no idea what the movie was about, and if anyone asked him afterwards he’d say it was the best thing he’d ever seen.

When Bucky unconsciously fisted Steve’s jumper to pull him in just that little bit closer, and felt the shaky breath leaving Steve’s body alongside the steady beat of his heart running at a speed much too quick for a human - that the truth Bucky was chasing, hit him.

Steve just might be a little touch-starved. The hug from their first date and his reaction to Bucky reaching out in the car making so much more sense if that were the case. All the evidence suggested Steve hadn’t been held in a long time, that no-one had bothered to find out if he needed physical touch more than a backslap, and Bucky just about climbed onto Steve’s lap right then and there to pull him tight and wrap every limb he could around him. 

But… there was always a but. 

_ But _ , Bucky was  _ not _ his boyfriend, was  _ not _ the person who should do that for him, not unless specifically asked at any rate. His heart went out to Steve, Steve who was so stoic and brave, and who melted under a half hug from a man he’d asked to pretend to be his boyfriend. 

Jesus, if this is what Steve needed from him, yet couldn’t ask for it, then Bucky would make it his mission to figure it out and help. Of course he would. 

He was just going to have to somehow steel his poor heart first.

Steve dropped Bucky back to his apartment later, the conversation in the car polite and guarded. They didn’t touch on cuddling for the entire movie, nor the fact Bucky had fallen asleep on Steve for the last half an hour and woke up mortified to find he’d drooled all over Steve, who just looked down at him fondly as if he were to most wonderous person in the world. Bucky worked out quickly (after feeling slightly dazed for a moment) that it was for Natasha’s sake, as she was watching them at the time.

Instead they spoke softly about Pepper and Tony and the work Bucky was going to start with them, and he found Steve had some interesting thoughts and ideas which might compliment his program. So deep in conversation, Bucky hadn’t noticed they’d been sitting out the front of his apartment for ten minutes.

“I’m so sorry, you must be exhausted and I’m waffling on about my damn app again.”

Steve smiled, eyes hidden in the darkness of the interior, but Bucky could tell they were trained on him.

“I enjoy hearing about your work.” he said simply, which made contentment well deep inside of Bucky.

For a moment neither said anything, and Bucky realised how warm it was inside the car and looked over to catch Steve staring at him, expression unreadable in the poor light. The air suddenly felt thicker, heavier with Bucky’s own desire for Steve, and because he had some self preservation left in his system he clicked the door open and jumped out; knowing if he stayed any longer he’d lean over and do something he couldn’t come back from.

“Thanks for a great night, I’m definitely in good company with the rest of your friends. So, I guess I’ll call you soon?”

Steve was quiet for a moment and Bucky quirked an eyebrow, feeling his stomach swirl in uncertainty.

“Sure, sounds good.” 

“Great. Night then.” Bucky said, hearing a soft ‘night’ from Steve, before shutting the door and fleeing upstairs like the big ol’ scardy cat he was.

Once he was in the safe space of his apartment with no reminders nor tell-tale lingering cologne from Steve, he allowed himself to take the first clear deep breath of air for the evening. There was no doubt about it, Steve had caught him off guard, he’d not expected Steve to be so receptive to his touch, or give it back tenfold. Bucky wasn’t complaining, but he needed a few days to get his head back on straight. To categorize and realise that what he was doing was helping Steve out of a jam, not to foist his own  _ new _ feelings onto an unsuspecting superhero who was just trying to make his own life less complicated. He didn’t need Bucky coming along and messing it all up.

Throwing the keys on to the bench, he went over to the large window looking out at the city, and was surprised to see the SUV still parked downstairs. But not as surprised as seeing Steve out of the car, walking up to Bucky’s front door. Did he leave something behind?

Then to his puzzlement, Steve turned around before he made it even halfway across the footpath, striding quickly back to the SUV then sliding inside, driving off moments later.

Wondering on the oddness of it all, Bucky had a quick shower, and fell into bed, half asleep in moments, exhausted. And if he dreamt of soft blue eyes and being held tightly against a warm naked chest - who was to know but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cuddles!!! Hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> Hang on - I did put somewhere a slow-ish burn tag - didn’t I???


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit when I started this - I never actually expected to… well, write this particular story, but I'm glad it's panned out the way it has (sorry darter_blue, you'll eventually get the ending to your bday fic). And I can't lie - it's still got a fair bit left to go. These boys are officially taking me the long way around!
> 
> So a huge thanks to you all for sticking with this very indulgent exploration of two certifiable idiots who clearly don't understand subtlety, nuance and couldn't read between the lines even if a neon sign proclaimed right next to it, 'he's just THAT into you'.
> 
> I mean let's be honest, the story would only be 3000 words long if I made them too smart ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!!

The following week found Bucky working tirelessly; starting well before sunrise and head not hitting the pillow until it was too late to be polite. He was ecstatic to get his brainchild off the ground and into the development and planning stages, but he hadn't banked on giving up sleep to do so.

Having Tony Stark involved personally with his SmartCare program was unparalleled, the eccentric billionaires brain firing on completely different levels than Bucky’s, and the ideas and workarounds he’d developed when they'd hit snags were unprecedented. It made something loosen in his chest, he’d made the right decision coming to Stark Industries with his prototype, though he thought he'd be working with an intern and not Tony himself.

The only major issue he'd stumbled upon so far was that Bucky was not used to working eighteen hour days with only bad drip coffee and an occasional bearclaw for sustenance. His bloodstream now consisted of refined sugar and caffeine and he knew he was going to spend the weekend cooking up meals to freeze so he’d at least consume vegetables if his days continued in the current trend. 

Thankfully he didn’t have to be concerned about fitting Steve into his insane schedule. Even though Bucky was at the Tower more hours a day than deemed necessary and was overly conscious that Steve lived a few floors below where he was working - he’d not seen Steve since being dropped off after the movie night. The reason not nefarious either; Steve was on a mission in Europe with Nat and Clint, which was great at stopping Bucky’s constant distractibility, but he also… missed Steve. 

Sure they were texting when Steve could, a grand total of twice so far, and Bucky couldn’t begrudge that, unable to complain, because although the texts were polite and had about as much emotional value as a plank of wood, he at _least_ received the friendly messages. As Friends, because that’s what they were - Friends. Good friends? Not yet. Almost good friends? He thought so. Did Bucky want to be more than friends? He’d probably tear down governments to make it happen if he were braver. Would he ever say anything directly to Steve though? That was an infinitely more complicated question, and in their current climate, no - no he wouldn’t. Because although Steve and he had a connection, one that grew stronger each time they spoke - Bucky was clouded with his own thoughts and feelings and was unreliable when it came to working out what Steve wanted. _If_ Steve _even_ wanted.

It was easy to lose sight of Steve’s original request for help, especially as their friendship blossomed, and that they’d never really spoken about what they were doing and what Steve’s expectations in return were. Bucky felt akin to a leaf floating on a brook when a rainstorm hit, tumbling under, gasping for breath on occasion and a sensation of being completely drenched, wrung out and bounced from shore to shore. But ultimately it came down to someone, Steve, needing his assistance, who’d asked for it and through a little trial and error, even if Bucky had to swallow down a few feelings of his own, he would do his damnedest to give it. 

He wasn't naively lying to himself, of course he hoped it would turn into something else, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath on wishes and dreams, and at least he _had_ his imagination, else he’d explode in pent up want. All that existed was _that_ moment, the _now_ , it’s all he _could_ conceivably give.

So if Steve wanted to come over to watch dodgy TV, text him at odd hours from across the world, be seen at events where the other Avengers were and touch (Bucky allowed himself one moment to hope cuddles were something he could help with) - he’d be there. Bucky wasn’t going to bring that last factor up though, it wasn’t up to him to decide what Steve needed, he had to work out for himself what he was missing, what he lacked and when Steve figured it out - then Bucky would step up. Or down… whatever the case might be.

None of his rational thoughts stopped him thinking about the movie night on no less than a thousand occasions though. Recalling the way Steve crumbled under his half hug, the sense memory of being pulled against Steve’s chest, hearing his steady heartbeat under his cheek, feeling the breaths as they left and entered his body which lulled Bucky into the deepest half hour sleep of his life. Bucky was still shocked that he’d managed to stand by the end of the night, as his bones had been reduced to liquid.

“Hey Dr Robucknic, you listening? Or thinking too much on how Old Man Rogers might come back home today?”

Bucky’s head snapped up, _was_ _Steve back_ , did Tony know something? But Tony’s sharp laugh made him grimace, he’d walked into that one eyes wide open. “No, I’m not listening because you’ve asked me to change the same thing about my design a hundred times before, and I’m not going to.”

“But it will make the integration easier.” Tony argued as he passed a power board to Dum-E, whose little claw grasped it delicately. Bucky loved working with Dum-E, sometimes not so much with the bigger one though.

“I get that.” He said through gritted teeth, “yet, once again, as I’ve said - it will limit the future use for remote upgrades.”

“Well, we can just send them all new devices.”

Bucky wanted to throw a wrench at Tony’s daft head. “At whose cost, Tony? The people who’ll benefit from this are ones who can’t afford to replace tech year in, year out. Plus, my business model allows for free upgrades. You’d know this if you read my proposal.”

“Okay, don’t get your panties in a twist. Fine, why do you have to be such a know it all?”

“Pot, kettle, black, Tony.”

The huff of amusement, meant he was actually listening for a change, “whatever. Dum-E make a note that I-Robot here has good ideas sometimes.”

“You flatter me, please stop,” Bucky deadpanned as he looked over his code again, trying to work out why it kept glitching in the final stage.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Bucky gave a half smile then dove right back into the issue he was trying to resolve, ignoring the small ache which twinged at the base of his neck. He’d been bent over, working at it since four that morning. At some point, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he almost ignored it, but just in case it was Steve he checked. He was glad he did.

**Steve:** Hey Buck, hope you’re good. This week was tough, not great at all. Would love to catch up for a coffee soon.

The idea of drinking one more coffee in that entire week made Bucky’s throat constrict, he couldn’t do it. But he’d drink acid if it meant hanging out with Steve in the near future. He wasn’t going to delve too deep into that particular morbidly accurate thought.

**Sent:** Hey bud, anytime. sorry about your tough week, I’ll Q up that Doco on Antarctica you want to see if it helps at all. 

**Sent:** I’m just in the Lab with Tony now, so let me know when you get back and we can sort something out. Take care.

Over the next half hour, Bucky may have glanced at his phone every minute on the minute, an action Tony noticed if the smirk on his face was anything to go by, but he didn’t receive a reply. Figuring Steve was still on mission and unable to, he squashed the unnecessary disappointment aside, knowing Steve would contact him when available. But the idea of an impending coffee date (even if he ordered tea) perked Bucky up, probably more than it had a right to.

Bucky leaned over his computer, typing furiously as Tony garbled on about a sun visor for Mach210? (Bucky wasn’t really listening) when the doors to the lab suddenly burst open. Snapping his head up at the unexpected interruption, he watched stunned as Steve, _no_ , as Captain America came barrelling through, uniform dirty and dishevelled with no mask on, looking exhausted and clearly just off the quinjet. Yet when his eyes landed on Bucky, the tired lines smoothed out and he smiled. Beamed. 

Sucking in a shocked yet delighted breath of air, Bucky couldn’t help the returning grin which spread over his face as Steve strode up to him, coming to stand a few scant feet away. He smelt of battle, of sweat and grime and a thousand other earthy and pure masculine scents, and Bucky damn well swooned with desire. Felt himself sway forward from it and had to pull himself together at the last moment to not fall face first into Steve’s chest.

“It’s okay, you two lovebirds can greet each other properly. I won’t get in the way,” Bucky looked over his shoulder at Tony and the gleam in his eyes indicated he’d do anything but. 

“Oh, right...” Steve breathed into the space between them, making Bucky look back wide eyed, only to find Steve staring at him like a starving man, hungry and desperate all rolled into one. Bucky’s poor heart stuttered, stopping completely in his chest before richoching into action a moment later, Stark must have been staring at Steve unflinchingly from behind Bucky for his expression to hold such raw emotion. But, Bucky was a greedy little thing and would take it, even if it was all for someone else’s benefit. So against every sane thought screaming in his mind, he hoped the small beckoning twitch to his hands was enough to alert Steve it was okay to breach his personal space. It was.

Steve didn’t hesitate, he took two huge strides towards Bucky, who gulped internally while desperately trying not to lose his sense of self. 

Then he was engulfed.

Steve wrapped his huge arms around him tightly, face burying into Bucky’s neck, inhaling deeply, like he’d missed Bucky’s very scent. His stomach lurched as his entire body vibrated under Steve’s touch, there was no way he would have missed Bucky’s reaction, but instead of letting go and asking him curiously about it, he tucked his nose further under Bucky’s ear and held on, the short hair of his beard tickling and scratching in equal parts and it _did_ things to Bucky. Steve’s hold was so tight, so unyielding and with their slight height difference, Bucky almost dangled from his arms, so he clutched back at Steve, crushing them together even more, the itch under his skin disappearing as Steve relaxed and sunk into the embrace.

It was the most singular intense experience of Bucky’s entire life.

“What? No sloppy kisses? How disappointing…” Tony remarked dryly as he clacked keys on the computer, the two of them already forgotten in the face of his work. 

Bucky though, felt himself stiffen at Tony’s words. He’d spent entirely too much time daydreaming on how Steve’s mouth would feel, and not just on his lips, but on every square inch of his body since they’d met. Not a moment went by when together, that Bucky’s eyes weren’t drawn to the plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. Yet it never occurred to him that as part of their friendship, as part of their dating - they might actually have to kiss in front of others at some point. It was a shattering realisation, one which Bucky wasn’t sure he could cope thinking about. Not in company at any rate.

Steve’s deep contented rumble against his neck as he spoke, sent sparks of desire shooting down Bucky’s spine. “Not gonna make time with my guy in front of you, Tony - you’re too nosy.”

A whoosh of breath left him at Steve’s words - they were so genuine, especially coupled with his grip tightening exponentially, lips almost grazing the skin of Bucky’s neck, then just as he reached the point of leaning into Steve’s mouth, he was released. 

Steve pulled back, staring directly into Bucky’s blown eyes and he couldn’t hide a thing in the depths. His longing and desire had to be shining like a goddamn beacon.

“Hey Buck, how you doing?”

Bucky took another small step back to better his stance and grip the desk behind him else he fall over. “Better now I’ve seen you and know you’re safe,” he replied without thinking. 

As Steve’s eyes darkened to a deep blue, intense and unflinching, he gulped.

“Always coming home to you.” He murmured quietly.

And Bucky’s entire essence, everything that made him who he was, leaked into the cracks and crevices of the lab floor at Steve’s soft sincerity. _Christ_ , Bucky wanted to be around other people twenty-four seven if Steve was this tactile and sweet with him after a mission.

Bucky flicked his gaze towards Tony to see if he was watching them - he wasn’t. But when he looked back to Steve, he found him frowning, though it levelled out immediately as he took another large step back.

“You know what, ‘Bucky 5 is alive’? I’m not going to get anything useful out of you today now your boy is back. How about we reconvene tomorrow, you take the rest of the day to spend with him.”

Steve went from a blank slate to ecstatic at the proposition, “want to go to the Met?”

“Pfft, romantic piece of meat aren’t you, taking him back to where you met. Hmm, maybe Pepper would like to visit the boardroom we had her interview in...”

Ignoring Tony, which was actually harder than anticipated, Bucky looked at his computer before back to Steve.

“Eer, well, I’m not sure... I guess, maybe…” Bucky was a little lost, knowing the amount of time and hours he’d been putting in at the lab was enough justification to have an afternoon off, but it still felt wrong to do it, as it was only lunch after all and it would feel like playing hooky. But damn it, if Steve’s expression of pure hope and burgeoning excitement wasn’t wearing him down, his heartbeat kicked up a notch.

“I can hear your brain thinking from here, these changes will take a few hours to replicate into the system, and then I still have to work out the kinks since you won’t let me integrate like I want. You’ve got more than enough time to go make googly eyes at the poster boy for righteousness.” Tony, although being sarcastic was giving him the most wonderful out, but could he handle being with Steve all day? He looked at the huge puppy dog eyes currently being bestowed on him, and he couldn’t resist laughing at the pathetic pout appearing on Steve’s face, “okay sure.”

Pure sunshine was the only way to describe Steve’s face as it lit up in triumph, “excellent - I’ll shower and change and meet you back here, alright?”

Bucky nodded dumbly, trying to pare back the rush of welling emotion threatening to overwhelm him at Steve’s entire charade in front of Tony. It was so real, he _wanted_ it to be true. Then he was rewarded by the quickest kiss on his forehead and with the prickle of beard lingering - Steve was gone.

He stumbled backwards until his knees hit a chair and he couldn’t help but fall back into it, glancing up stunned as Tony chuckled at him, clearly having just kicked the wheeled seat his way, else he would have landed on his ass splayed across the floor.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there.” Bucky swung his eyes up to Tony, who held up his hands in the universal surrender gesture, “I mean with Pepper, not the Cap, you can keep your murder eyes sheathed. Although if he greeted me like that after every mission, then I might swoon too.”

“I’m not swooning.” Bucky retorted, voice cracking, making a complete liar of him. _Jesus Christ._

“Sure thing.” Tony smirked, then started to berate Dum-E for giving him a Phillips-head instead of a flat-blade screwdriver.

Which left Bucky, slumped on a chair, wrung out completely from only ten minutes in close contact with Steve. It was supposed to get easier the more their friendship grew, not harder, wasn’t it? So with that in mind, Bucky had ten minutes or so to mentally prepare himself for a full day out in public with Steve Rogers - piece of cake. Right?

  
  


The Met was busy, of course it was, it was _always_ busy. But for some reason Bucky enjoyed it; the hustle and bustle of people wandering around, hearing snippets of conversations on favourite pieces, memories from previous visits and of course seeing the tourists, wide-eyed and excited to be there. There was absolutely something for everyone in the Met, and this time Bucky was staring unabashedly at the most mesmerising piece of art on the entire planet - in the entire galaxy.

“I like this,” Steve voiced, gesturing to the large wall-sized painting before him.

Bucky meanwhile stood slightly back so Steve filled his entire vision, and found it exceptionally hard to steal his eyes away to look at the large painting behind Steve. Honestly, Bucky hadn’t even glanced at it, so caught up in watching Steve move from piece to piece, room to room, heart full from watching him interact, baseball cap low on his head, trying to look smaller in stature than he was. But the thing was, they’d only had one or two glances from curious onlookers, and at that, not one of them approached. 

People didn’t expect to see Captain America wandering around like a slack-jawed tourist, nor to be walking alongside a veritable nobody. If Steve had arrived with Natasha, it would have been a completely different story, but he hadn’t, so Bucky for all intents and purposes had Steve Rogers to himself for the day, to wander around and look at art. It was turning into the perfect day.

“Yeah it’s pretty good, not the best piece here though.” Bucky knew he was playing with fire by his words, but Steve seemed oblivious, engrossed in the art, so Bucky felt he could get away with saying it, if only to stop himself inappropriately blurting out something at a later stage.

“What’s your favourite then?” Steve asked, a hint of amusement in his voice, and there was no way he’d picked up on Bucky’s meaning. _No way._

“Err, probably the Musical Instrument Room, I really liked the Bugle.” he blabbed, saying the first thing he thought of - the Bugle - really? It was cool, but really?

“Oh,” Steve said looking deflated a second (as was Bucky, the Bugle?) before pointing towards The Petrie Court Cafe, “coffee?”

Bucky grimaced at the thought of coffee, which should have worried him as caffeine was a huge part of his life, but he saw Steve’s crestfallen look and realised he’d been watching Bucky’s face the whole time and would have taken it the wrong way. “Oh, sorry, yes absolutely, but I might grab a peppermint tea instead.”

“Sure, no worries,” but for some unknown reason Steve was more subdued. Bucky felt he might be screwing up their day.

They waited in the lineup silently and when they ordered Steve wouldn’t let him pay even though Bucky protested loudly.

“ _I_ asked you out, so I pay this time. On our next date you can pay,” Steve argued offhanded as he passed over a twenty to the cashier, and from the girl’s small wink of encouragement to Bucky when Steve looked down, he realised the wild look of excited expectation in his eye was clear. Oh christ, he was too obvious, thank god Steve wasn’t aware.

“Sure thing, pal.” He replied quickly, seeing a free seat for two near the window, “I’ll just, err, grab that table and you wait for the drinks?” 

Steve smiled, showing all his perfect teeth and Bucky almost tripped over his feet, “sounds great.”

Miraculously the table remained free and Bucky slid into a seat, ensuring Steve’s chair was positioned to see all the exits, heart hammering, he was going to have to ask Steve what his intentions were, his poor body couldn’t take not knowing. He knew instantly he wasn’t going to ask, but the thought at least made Bucky feel like he was making a small effort to keep his poor feelings in check.

So far their half day out and about had been blissful. They were completely on the same page about so many topics, enjoying countless laughs and stories and to the casual observer it would have appeared to be an authentic date. Hell, _Bucky_ felt like it was. And before he could string together the litany of his thought into some coherence, Steve slid into the free seat before him, peppermint tea for Bucky and a flat white for himself.

“We might have a problem?” He said without preamble.

“What? You weren’t expecting to pay $20 for two drinks?” Bucky teased.

Steve smiled, but his eyes darted towards the doors, “I think we’re being followed.”

“Followed?” Bucky asked incredulously, the entire concept foreign to him, surely no one followed anyone unless you were a... “- Uh good follow or bad follow?”

The cocked eyebrow was unfairly attractive under Steve’s cap, the look indicating that what Bucky asked was effectively one of the same.

“I mean, uh, should we go? Should I be alarmed? Should I be investing in a bulletproof jumper or scarf or something?”

Chuckling, Steve looked thoughtful for a moment, “I honestly didn’t actually think about that kind of thing, but no - I mean, I’m pretty certain it’s Natasha who’s following us.”

“Why would she?” He asked, looking towards the door. There were people everywhere and he _may_ have caught a glimpse of red hair, but couldn’t be certain. 

“I guess to check up on us, see if we are the real deal,” Steve said shiftily, an unusual tone in his voice.

“Crap, did I say something last week which threw her off?” Worried once more that he’d screwed up Steve’s cover, which didn’t feel like a cover at all. He realised he might just need a good quiet holiday.

“No! Err, no - I don’t think so, but she’s always been a little... overprotective, and to be honest, she’s probably annoyed that none of the people she wanted to set me up with worked out and wants to know more about you.”

Bucky chewed over that for a moment. “Right. Well I’m happy to go out for lunch or something with her and chat. But following us from a distance doesn’t seem to be the greatest way to learn about someone and their intentions does it?”

The bright and sudden smile which graced Steve’s face unexpected, but boy, did Bucky like seeing the unfettered happiness in his eyes. Especially if it was something Bucky had said to put it there. 

“You’d do that?”

“Do what?”

“Meet up with my friends and get to know them properly?”

Bucky knew the look on his face was an amalgamation of puzzlement and a heavy dose of, ‘what do you think numbskull?’ “Of course, Steve.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Steve’s attention remained in his cup afterwards, reminiscent of their first coffee together, his eyes remaining riveted to the inner workings of his caffeine. “Thanks,” he finally exhaled.

“For what?” Bucky was extremely confused now.

It looked like Steve was going to say something, but swallowed it at the last moment then spoke quietly, “coming out with me today. I really needed the distraction.”

“Happy to, but not sure if I’m much of a distraction,” he laughed.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Steve said under his breath, but before Bucky could speak again, Steve continued, “yeah, the operation I just came back from, it went south quickly, two agents are in critical condition and I can’t help think if I’d done things differently, had a better plan then they’d be fine, walking off the quinjet back to their families.”

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky breathed, now understanding completely why Steve needed to get out and away, he was thrilled to be able to help. Leaning over the small table, he placed his hand over Steve’ balled up fist sitting next to his cup in comfort, and Steve immediately loosened up, twisting his hand over so their fingers entwined and Bucky’s brain faltered.

“Nat could be watching,” Steve said simply, eyes averted as Bucky looked directly at him, stunned, and knew his own face was brighter, just as the tops of Steve’s cheeks were too. Okay he could do this, it was new, but not unwelcome - he _could_ hold hands with Steve. Letting go might prove problematic though.

“Sure.” he murmured, but then circled back to Steve’s earlier words. “Steve, look I might not know you well, and I have no idea what kind of operative you are or how you work, but from what I _do_ know, you care. You care so much about your team and what happens - I have complete faith that there was nothing wrong with your plan, and potentially if anyone else was running point, then those agents might have died. I _know_ you did all you could, and the fact they have a fighting chance is probably a miracle. And that’s because of you.”

Steve’s gaze didn’t shift from Bucky’s face, eyes flitted from one feature to the next, quickly, mapping it until they landed on Bucky’s mouth and he couldn’t help it, it was a natural nervous reaction, something he’d done since he was a kid, he poked his tongue out and licked the right corner of his mouth. It was not supposed to mean anything, but the way Steve sucked in a breath and watched the movement closely, made Bucky feel desirable, like he was fifty feet tall.

“You’re a good person Steve,” Bucky finished, needing to dissolve the tension in the air, unsure where it had come from but knowing from his end what it meant. Their hands were still clasped and Bucky felt Steve’s grip tighten and pull as he used his other hand to scratch at the back of his neck. Was he nervous? Why?

“How are you even real?” Steve whispered more to himself than to Bucky. “I can’t believe that I -”

“- excuse me” a small voice said from beside the table, and Bucky immediately untangled their hands. 

A boy no older than six stood next to them, brown eyes wide as he stared up at Steve, and Bucky, already battling his feelings for Steve, might have just fallen a few more feet into the abyss at the way he hunched down to speak eye-to-eye with the child.

“Hey champ, how are you?” he spoke kindly, lancing a spear of warmth through Bucky’s poor heart.

“Are you Captain America?”

Steve looked around to find the mother one table over, looking a little embarrassed, but Steve grinned at her, giving a friendly little wave that he didn’t mind and Bucky noticed her relax immediately.

“Well, you caught me, yes I am,” the boy beamed, “but I’m on a very important mission right now, so you have to keep it a secret, can you do that?”

His small deep brunette head nodded emphatically, eyes narrowing in concentration as Captain America spoke to him and Bucky’s insides went to goo. “I sure can Mister America.’

Bucky stifled a laugh, feeling Steve kick him under the table, which made him shake further. Steve’s eyes flicked up at him and he mouthed ‘behave’ and _whoa_ , that was a look right there, one Bucky wanted desperately to explore, preferably naked and potentially tied up…

“What’s your name?” Steve asked the boy, and Bucky grasped his dirty mind by the hand and yanked it from his pants, he was being supremely inappropriate. 

“Bobby,” he said proudly.

“Well, Bobby, how about you give me your colouring-in book and I’ll write you a code and you can go home and work it out for me - okay?”

The boy sprinted to his mother, grabbing the Transformers book and a bright red crayon while Bucky melted further into his seat as Steve’s ankle brushed against his for a second before pressing harder. Bucky didn’t move away from the touch. Either did Steve.

Five minutes later with a grateful mother, a star-stuck child and their drinks gone, they were making their way back to the last of the exhibits they’d wanted to explore that day.

“You’re really great with kids,” Bucky remarked as they entered the Egyptian Art room.

“Really? I always feel a little out of depth with them.”

“That code idea is amazing.”

“I can’t take credit for it, actually it was Scott who told us about it in one of our meetings, said it was a brilliant way to interact with children to make them feel like they are part of the bigger picture. Not going to lie, their faces absolutely light up. Even some of the parents ask for a code too.”

The laugh which punched straight out of Bucky loud, gaining a few sharp looks from other patrons.

“What?’ Steve asked, bewildered.

“You _do_ realise they’re actually asking for your number, your phone number - not a code?”

“Oh… _oh,”_ Steve said, ears flushing red, delighting Bucky to no end.

“You’re too much sometimes, Stevie, too much.”

And that’s when his brain stopped functioning, the exact moment Steve’s fingers tangled with his own, until they were walking hand in hand like a real couple. He took a few deep calming breaths then looked down curiously to observe Steve’s huge hand with short nails and thick veins running down his strong wrists to see his slightly smaller, slightly shaking hand engulfed. Shit - he adored everything about it.

“Huh?’ Steve said when he noticed where Bucky’s attention was snagged, “Natasha I think is still here,” Steve stumbled out as he too looked down at their entwined hands.

“Sure thing,” Bucky replied eloquently, fighting against the expected dismay which welled at Steve’s explanation. It was okay, not an issue. Natasha watching them was a good thing, especially if they hammed it up, Bucky could relish in the touch, knowing he was giving something back to Steve, for his cover. But it didn’t stop his heart aching for the illusion to be revealed as truth.

Walking around hands clasped was an experience Bucky hadn’t had before, sure he’d held hands before with people, he wasn’t a newbie at dating - but holding Steve’s was next level. Steve pulled him towards exhibits, raising both of their hands to point at things as if he couldn’t bare to let go, tugging Bucky closer to his heat if people wanted to get past them, until in front of one memorable painting (which Bucky for the life of him could not tell you what colour it was, let alone where in the Met was hanging) Steve let go to wrap his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pulled him in so he slotted perfectly beside him.

His first thought was that a heart attack was imminent, the second was that Natsaha must be glaring at them by now - it would have been the most boring surveillance she’d ever done.

“Do you think she’s close,” Bucky couldn’t help ask as Steve looked up at the painting before them.

“Who?”

“Natasha?”

“Nat? Oh right - yeah I think so.” Steve bit his bottom lip and Bucky wanted to drop to his knees right there.

“Err, so what do we do? Acknowledge her?”

“God no,” Steve said quickly, “not at all, she’d be frustrated that I spotted her so easily.”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel like Natasha would only be seen if she wanted to be. Which in this case, if Steve had spotted her, meant she might want to be approached. But he wasn’t friends or teammates with her, so he really wouldn’t know.

“So what do we do?”

By this stage, Bucky was looking directly at Steve, body moving of its own accord so Steve’s arm had slipped around until his hand sat on Bucky’s shoulder, and they were face to face. For some reason Steve removed his cap, leaving him with adorable hat hair, but it was his eyes which once more roamed across Bucky’s features that made him try a valiant aborted attempt to look behind Steve to see if he could spot Nat. It was futile because the moment he looked into Steve’s unfathomably deep blue eyes, he was trapped.

“Christ, please tell me if this is not alright…” Steve mumbled then moved his hand from Bucky’s shoulder to cup the side of Bucky’s face, thumb trailing very slow concise shaky movements across his cheek. Bucky exploded in a mess of colours and feelings, sparks starting where Steve’s thumb moved, colliding with every cell in his body, making him tremble with anticipation, with need and a want all so tightly wound he wasn’t sure what sensation he was riding at any given time. 

Steve’s other hand grasped Bucky’s hip, pulling him closer until he could feel the slight warmth of breath against his lips, and it was only then, as he saw the uncertainty and softness shining from Steve’s eyes that his fractured brain understood.

Steve was going to kiss him.

Lips, soft and dry pressed so very lightly against Bucky’s top lip, chaste and sweet. Bucky melted forward, his own hand grasping at Steve’s belt for leverage, for something to hold. The small whimper of pure unadulterated lust he heard, thrilled him, until mortified, realised it had come from _his_ throat. Oh God, Steve Rogers’ lips were pressed against his - finally, and Bucky was certain he was going to die from the sheer pleasure of it.

At first it was nothing more than sharing breath as Steve waited, and Bucky wanted to scream ‘waiting for what’, then it slammed into his murky awareness - Steve was patiently waiting for Bucky to reciprocate, to show some form of response that he wanted it too. He was unfailingly polite, and if he thought for one second Bucky didn’t want this, that he might be forcing affection on him - how terribly misinformed he was.

Bucky opened his mouth the barest amount, and Steve unconsciously recaptured Bucky’s upper lip once more between his own, and that was all it took - Bucky couldn’t help it. He’d blame his lack of finesse on his formative years or something similar, but gods did he want - he wanted so much.

Yanking Steve forward by his belt, a gorgeous little ‘oomph’ left Steve’s throat which Bucky promptly swallowed down, and then it was all over as Bucky kissed Steve properly, all consuming, mouth pressing forward hard and Steve’s grip on his face relaxed, yet he still didn’t let go. Steve was managing to keep some semblance of control by cupping his cheek tenderly, as if scared to let go, else Bucky would disappear; and to be honest Bucky felt like he could float off, Steve’s touch the only thing grounding him in the then and now.

It was the shy questing of Steve’s tongue which undid him in the end, and with an unholy growl he practically climbed Steve, devouring his mouth, pushing his tongue into the undeniable heat of Steve’s mouth, taking what he’d craved what he’d been dreaming of. Bucky was somewhat expecting Steve to push him away, telling him it was too much, he’d gone too far, but he did no such thing. Instead Steve’s hand finally left his face to yank Bucky hard up against him, rough and demanding as he pushed his tongue hungrily back, taking control. Bucky now knew what heaven was going to be like.

A cough startled them both and red faced, they jumped apart, dropping their arms and allowing the barest of inches between them, only to see an older man cluck his tongue at them. Bucky had somehow forgotten they were in a public domain, there were kids around, masses of people and he’d lost his head. He looked back at Steve whose chest was heaving just as quickly and just as heavily as his. He slipped his cap back on.

Before Bucky could say anything, apologise for something, for losing control maybe, Steve’s fingers grasped Bucky’s wrist, and there was no way he wouldn’t be able to feel the racing of his heartbeat. And his body was a traitorous place to live because all he could do instead of formulating words, was look at Steve’s pink and completely bruised mouth and knew his own lips and face would be rashed up in red from Steve’s beard, and he wondered if he could just plaster himself on his mouth again. Just one more time.

“Buck, oh jesus,” Steve husked, voice heavy and thick like candied syrup, “you’re… I wasn’t expecting it to be so…” he trailed off.

Still dazed and unable to grasp coherence, Bucky preened under Steve’s mangle of words and tried for a teasing tone, “well you never did ask what was included in the package deal for dating me, did you?” 

When he realised how that sounded he wanted to face-palm himself. He basically alluded to great sex, didn’t he? Because that’s exactly what he’d meant. Hang on - would Steve want to upgrade - or be interested?

But instead of responding with the quick smile he expected, Steve looked over behind Bucky’s shoulder letting out a long slow shaky breath, like he was controlling himself. And through the fog of being kissed to within an inch of his life by Steve, he could have sworn the other man shook his head, masking the smallest amount of sadness tinged with discouragement.

“I can’t see her, she must be gone,” he finally said, voice still sinfully low, making Bucky quake.

Steve ended up patting Bucky’s back and with a quick smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes, Bucky wondered what he’d done, should he not have joked about sex? Maybe he’d pushed it? 

They finished walking through the Met though and Steve _did_ take his hand once again, easing Bucky’s worry, but there was no more pulling in, and there were no more kisses much to Bucky’s dismay.

  
  
  


The kiss remained an unspoken entity between them, and although the air was thick with tension (at least on Bucky's behalf) at their next few “dates”, he didn't bring up his desire to have his very core annailalated by Steve's mouth again. He would usually have been bitterly disappointed by the lack of acknowledgment and the lack of a repeat performance, but to be fair, they’d only caught up twice since the infamous Met-kiss, both times sans Avengers - and thus the requirement for their superior acting skills. 

One of their catch ups consisted of a quick coffee, thankfully Bucky was back on the caffeine wagon, and instead of drinking it in the Towers cafe, Steve insisted they take it to go as Bucky apparently appeared drawn and tired and needed fresh air. Bucky was only slightly offended, but more charmed that Steve seemed worried. The next meet, to help Steve choose a new sofa for his apartment. And even though Bucky didn’t have an eye for design and usually avoided shopping at all costs, he had fun; both of them laughing over the more ‘out-there’ colour choices and shapes. Bucky secretly helped Steve select one which would fit two rather large men laid out snuggling and had a high firm back, perfect for holding onto while being pounded relentlessly from behind. He'd never been so hot and bothered in a retail outlet before.

Finding himself at a loose end, since Tony and he had made a breakthrough earlier that day and they had a rare evening off, it was a perfect excuse to catch up with Darcy. She was ecstatic and flicked him the name of a small wine bar he’d not heard of before, and he headed out. 

It was trendy, busy and full of people a little more classy than their usual joint. He spied her immediately and noticed she was sitting with someone, their back to him as he strode through the crowd, narrowly missing a girl who stood up quickly and thrust her large handbag in his direction.

He made it over and smiled down at Darcy’s friend to introduce himself, and choked.

“Natasha?”

“James,” She drawled, a smug yet predatory smile on her face, and his heart fluttered like a little captured bird in his chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He did not intend to sound so rude, but honestly, he was shocked to see her, and with Darcy… oh, no - were they -

“- why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were dating _that_ Steve?” Darcy interrupted his thoughts.

“Steve…” he trailed off, eyebrows rising high into his hairline, oh, no - Natasha _did_ not.

“Yeah, Steve - Captain hot ass America,” she hissed quietly, and Bucky shut his eyes from the world and slumped into the stool across from her feeling a sarcastic pat on his thigh. Opening his eyes again, Natasha was right there smirking wide, hand outstretched and leaning on him.

“Uh - it’s a secret?” he tried and received the most patented ‘bitch please’ look that he actually flinched from it. Darcy was not happy.

“Also you never mentioned his hot best friend wanted to meet me.”

“Err,” he replied and saw the look shared between the two women, _god_ \- he now had two of them. It was suddenly turning into a Twilight Zone remix. He needed a drink.

Darcy jumped up, timing impeccable as always. “I’m getting drinks and demand a full explanation when I return. And it’s also a requirement to tell me how big Cap’s _shield_ is in inches when I return.”

As she flounced off, in a way that Bucky knew he was going to pay for at some point, he turned on Natasha.

“You told her?” The disbelief and slight anger in his voice not at all feigned. He was annoyed, this made everything more complicated. How was he supposed to lie to his best friend and if he _did_ lie to her, when Steve and he ended their arrangement, what then? Though he wouldn’t have to act heartbroken, so he might get away with it.

All he received in return from Natasha was a flat stare. Nothing behind her eyes, no infliction, no feeling - just flat. He gulped.

"I didn't realise you boys were keeping it a secret - sorry." She sounded anything but.

Bucky resisted the urge to drop his eyes and apologise for bothering her, instead asking, "did you enjoy the Met?"

"Huh?" It was the most un-Natasha like response he'd heard.

"The Met - the Metropolitan Museum of Art?"

Dark brows furrowed, "haven't been for years. Why? You asking me on a date, hot shot? Steve won't like it."

Bucky watched her closely, she was an exceptional liar, which is why she was so good at her role within the Avengers. He glanced over to see Darcy still vying for the bartender's attention.

"Why are you here?" He asked, rubbing a tired hand over his face. Maybe instead of a drink he should go take a nap.

"Well apart from the fact that Darcy is absolutely amazing and I'm definitely going to see her again," Bucky swallowed, not sure how he felt about having Nat in his life even more than she was now, especially after he and Steve finished whatever they were doing. "You’re about to hear from Steve, and I want to see your face when you speak to him."

"What?" He asked, just as his phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and didn't stop - he was getting a call. He checked the ID, Steve. Was Natasha psychic?

"Hey, Steve," Bucky tried to say quietly, knowing there was absolutely no privacy in front of Natasha, even if he walked next door into a soundproof room, she'd still know exactly what was being said.

"Hello, Buck. Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Out for a drink with Darcy, but she’s at the bar - what’s up?” Bucky wasn’t sure why he omitted Natasha’s presence, a fact her pursed lips indicated that she’d noticed. Of course she did.

“Well… Err, I am _so_ sorry."

"What for?" He asked, heart starting to ramp up in nerves, why did Steve sound so breathless, a little nervous?

"I have to ask you something."

"Yeah, of course, Stevie." 

"Shit," he heard the soft unusual curse under Steve's breath, "uh, yeah, okay, you can totally say no, I mean if you do say no, I'll think of something and then just -"

"- ask me first, Steve then we'll tackle what the outcome is."

"Oh right, makes sense." Then Steve stopped speaking. For an age.

Bucky looked up finally and startled, he'd never seen such a smile on Natasha's face before and it terrified him.

"You there, champ?"

"Yep, sorry, okay so Tony wants all of us to go on this retreat... thing. To his cabin, it's on a lake, has activities and such like. He basically wants to go away and bond with everyone, he talks big game but he really loves the idea of family and I guess that’s what we are."

"Sounds nice." Bucky replied, trying not to think about Steve in a swimsuit, diving into cool water on a warm day, sweat and droplets beading across his bare chest, that Bucky _really_ craved to devour, lick by lick, bite by bite.

"Yeah?" Steve asked hopefully, making Bucky frown and Natasha snort a laugh, he glared her way. He was no longer enamoured by her - she was as annoying as Darcy.

"Of course, a minibreak sounds great, you deserve it."

"So you’ll come then?" The eagerness in Steve's voice caught him off guard a second.

"What?" He asked again, sounding like a deranged parrot.

"Crap - did I forget the part of asking you along too?"

"Yeah, bud, you did."

Steve took a deep breath as Bucky sat back, shutting his eyes against mirthful green ones, "so Tony's insisted that all partners come too, and…" the line went quiet for a bit, "that means you."

"Oh right." Bucky wondered why Tony never mentioned it while working together in the last week.

"Is that an, oh right, yes? Or, oh right no?"

Bucky’s initial reaction was to yell ' _yes'_ down the phone, but he took a moment to mull it over, to really think if his poor heart could take it. But the idea of a mini-break even with the intensity of hanging out socially with the Avengers sounded amazing. He’d not had a holiday in ages. He looked up at a flash of light, eyes slamming into Natasha's and he swore she’d just taken a picture. Darcy's laugh by his side shaking him from his stupor, only to see her lean over to whisper in Nat's ear and _no_ , just, no - they could _not_ date.

"Yeah sure I'd love to," hang on what?

"Really?" Steve breathed, and Bucky internally cringed, he couldn't take it back now. Damn meddling women distracting him.

"Of course. I'm here for you, anything you need, just ask."

" _Anything_?"

And how did Steve make that one word sound loaded with innuendo? Bucky swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, anything." He was playing not only with fire, but with his heart.

Nothing but silence greeted his soft words, so before it became awkward, Bucky said he had to go as Darcy needed attention and Steve apologised like the big golden retriever he was, and hung up.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he hissed at Natasha, wondering how on earth someone so infuriatingly smug was his favourite Avenger, well not anymore, Clint was now getting second spot - she was relegated to third, Steve on top. _Oh god_ , Steve on top sounded delicious.

“No reason at all, _champ_ ," she threw Bucky's moniker to Steve back at him, "just can’t wait to get to know you better. It's going to be a _great_ long weekend."

Bucky didn’t understand her tone or why she looked excited at the prospect of spending time together, but he shrugged it off as an idiosyncrasy and eyed the shot of tequila Darcy had placed before him.

"No, that’s a firm no." He could not go through that hangover again.

Then Nat picked hers up, looking him dead in the eye and skulled without a flinch. Bucky couldn’t help it as his natural competitive side reared its head.

"Damn you, Romanoff."

The burn of alcohol slid down his throat with a shudder, and he was left with Natasha's laugh reverberating through his brain along with thoughts on spending a whole four days with Steve and by extension, the Avengers.

He was glad he’d received his boy scout badge for resilience, because this whole situation was not going to get messy at all. Pity they didn't give out badges for acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm.... What trope could possibly be coming up??


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, wow - chapter 4 certainly resonated with so many of you and I couldn’t be more thrilled - also we got a kiss (finally!)
> 
> So I just want to preface this chapter with acknowledging that you’ve all been so wonderfully patient, as I’ve mentioned before, this wasn’t intended to be a slow burn for the ages… but honestly every time I tried to get them to go for it - it turned into a hot mess (and not a sexy one either), they wouldn’t comply - at all… just yet. With that in mind - please enjoy this chapter and know (with no word of a lie) things are about to hit breakneck speed (well, for them - so to be fair, it’s probably normal speed ;) )
> 
> *I also added a tag!! (You're all like Iago in Aladdin and saying - 'I think I’m gonna have a heart attack and die from not surprise')

“When you said cabin, this was not what I was expecting.” Bucky breathed as Steve pulled the SUV up in front of a house rivalling any Hamptons mansion, loving the deep chuckle that escaped him, a chuckle he’d heard almost non-stop on their drive up. His insides were taut as a violin string, his poor body trying to come to terms with being alone in such a small space with Steve for an extended period of time. His fingers had itched continuously to reach over to rest his palm on Steve’s gloriously wide thigh, touching him for the few hours the drive took. It was even harder to not give in to his instincts and do it, knowing how much Steve craved touch, even if he didn’t ask for it. Bucky was still working through whether it was terrible of him to capitalise on Steve’s apparent needs and fall into giving him exactly what he desired. Boy, did he want to though, he wanted to plaster every single piece of his body against Steve’s, offer comfort and anything else the blonde wanted to take from him.

Steve, oblivious to Bucky’s thoughts, appeared relaxed on the drive, clearly not second guessing himself from reaching out every five seconds. He smiled more often and laughed genuinely at Bucky’s stories of growing up with Becca and how over the top Winifred could be, and it was undoing all of Bucky’s pep talks about not deepening his attachment with the handsome hero.

Tony’s 'cabin' was set far enough from the main road it took almost five minutes of a meandering drive through thick trees to breach the shadows into a slice of brilliant sunlight. Bucky climbed out of the car and he raised his face towards the brightness, soaking up the heat; eyes closed and inhaling the crisp clean air. A small punch of noise escaped Steve, and Bucky cracked an eye to find blue irises trained directly on him, the soft, fond expression on his face warmed Bucky from the inside. Tangled webs of excitement paired with a healthy dose of lust and also uncertainty curled in his stomach at the unguarded expression he was on the receiving end of. His eyes momentarily dropped to Steve’s lips, remembering with crystal clear clarity the feel of them pressed against his, and a longing to have that again, to explore Steve’s mouth kicked him low in the gut. Would they kiss again here, in front of the others? It was a strong possibility, one that made Bucky’s insides flutter, yet, he could also instigate it if the time came - he was after all Steve’s attentive and devoted boyfriend. Maybe he should’ve put more thought into what the mini-break might do to him in the long run. But it was way too late to second guess his decision.

As Steve grabbed their bags from the backseat (not letting Bucky carry his own), he slung them over one shoulder, fingers questing out grabbing onto Bucky's with his free hand, holding tight as they made it up the stairs. It took more concentration than usual not to fall _up_ the incline at the ease Steve reached out to touch him, like it was his right, like he'd been wanting to do it for hours. Just like Bucky.

Tony, Pepper and Bruce were the only others to have arrived so far, Bucky trying not to gawk at the opulent, yet simplistic nature of the house once inside. It was all warm wood and chrome, which usually wouldn’t have worked, but in this case it did, he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve leaned over to tell him it was all Tony’s design. Of course it would be, he definitely had an eye for it.

Knowing his new business partners were there lessened the guilt of taking a few extra days off from the project, but he’d slipped his laptop in just in case he had time to work; he wasn’t certain if he would, but it made him feel better to have the option. Who knew, the others might start to talk about missions he shouldn’t be privy to and he’d need something to occupy his time (other than lust after Steve). 

Living in the city his entire life, Bucky had somehow forgotten what fresh unimpeded air smelled like and it already made him feel more alive and a little dizzy from the lack of pollutants - or that might have been Steve’s firm grip, which hadn’t loosened as they stood in the monstrous kitchen speaking to Pepper as Tony and Bruce stood out on the decking, eyeing the grill with barely concealed panic. For all of Tony’s tech savviness, it looked like Bucky might have to give them a quick lesson on the simple appliance. It made him grin. 

“I’m so glad you could make it, James.” Pepper said as she put water on to boil, “anyone for tea, coffee?”

“Coffee please,” Steve looked to Bucky with a small smile, “what about you, baby?”

Bucky spent three full seconds with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, then another three trying to wrap his brain around the endearment which slid off Steve’s tongue easily, then another three trying to calm his heart rate down so that he didn’t suffer a coronary. 

Apparently moving his head in a cross between a nod and a shake was enough for Pepper to grab another coffee cup down. Bucky _really_ liked being called Steve’s baby. It was doing things to him, lustful things. He suddenly pictured Steve plastered against his back, naked and sweaty, deep inside of him, telling him he was his ‘pretty baby’ and he was so good at taking his dick.

Bucky strangled out a startled cough at the imagery, enough to earn a worried glance from Steve. He held up his free hand, gesturing he was okay and it wasn’t life threatening. Not yet anyway. Jesus, could he dial his brain back a notch?

“Why don’t you boys take a look around, put your bags away. I’ll shout out when these are ready. The others should be here soon and if Tony and Bruce figure out the grill we’ll have something to eat - hopefully.”

“Thanks, Pepper,” Steve said ever so politely, “same room as last time?”

“Uh-huh, you’ll find everything you need in there.”

Steve tugged softly on Bucky’s hand and he was helpless to do anything but follow, pulled down a hallway all while trying to work out why his heart raced, thumping loud enough it was starting to hurt his ribs. As he trailed after Steve who navigated the rabbit warren of halls as only someone who’d been there before could, Bucky went up stairs, past secondary and thirdary lounge areas, and even a games room (complete with table tennis table) and the whole time trying to figure why he was so janky - itchy under his skin.

When Steve came to an oversized door at the end of the house and swung it open, Bucky was immediately gobsmacked at the sheer size of the space before his attention snagged on the outside view. Dropping Steve’s hand, he walked towards the huge plate glass windows, noticing the balcony that came off the side, housing a small table and chairs, perfect for early morning sleepy coffees. 

“Took my breath away the first time too.” Steve murmured from close to his shoulder, making Bucky shiver as he felt warm breath on his neck.

Stretched out before them was a section of the huge lake, water glistening with sunlight, bright enough to make Bucky squint - the entire vista awe inspiring. Bucky saw a jetty reaching its wooden finger out into the lake as if seeking an audience with a deep water entity, the boatshed was wide open, a glimpse of kayaks and a rowboat inside, along with a huge vessel which looked more technical than a fighter jets control panel - Tony’s clearly. On the opposite side of the lake, huge trees crowded to the shore from a steep incline and if there were other cabins dotted throughout, they were invisible. The large grassed area between the house and waters edge was lush and Bucky imagined his toes being eaten up in the cool, soft greenness. Lounge chairs were dotted under trees and a Balinese inspired hut sat near the water’s edge, perfect for reading, or for laying in Steve’s arms as they watched the day go by. His fantasies were getting cleaner at least, or maybe that was worse - depending on the scenario.

“Tony really outdid himself with this place.” Bucky finally whispered, scared to break the comfortable silence that sat between them as they enjoyed the view, Steve’s presence at his back a balm, easing him further.

“I think it was Pepper who found the land, but Tony loudly states it was all him.”

Bucky laughed, not surprised, “so this is your usual room?”

“Uh… yeah…” Steve trailed off, voice losing its relaxed tone and Bucky turned to find red high on his cheeks, before he spun away to drop their bags on the biggest bed Bucky had ever seen, one he was desperately trying not to imagine a sleep tousled Steve waking up in, before Steve’s hand absently scratched the back of his neck. _Huh_.

“It’s cool, I think you have the pick of the views, although I’m sure all the rooms are like this.” Bucky waited patiently a moment for Steve to pick his bag back up and finally show him to his room and Steve, if possible, seemed to go even more crimson and let out an aborted cough. Why was he acting so strange?

“I… I can, I mean - if you want… I can sleep on the floor?”

“Why would you do that? The bed looks amazingly comfortable and it’s huge.” Bucky replied and looked back out the window, wondering if a kayak was free for a bit of an explore that afternoon, and also if Steve would want to join him.

“Really?” Steve asked, sounding a little awed and thankful. Bucky really adored his awkwardness sometimes, knowing not many people saw this side of him.

“Yeah.” Bucky thought the exchange odd, but honestly that view was spectacular and was taking most of his brain power.

“That’s great, I mean the house is massive but only enough bedrooms for each of the others. Usually there are two beds in here, but Tony must have changed things around, otherwise I definitely would have warned you. I mean you’re right, the bed _is_ huge, I’m sure I can keep to my side overnight.”

It was then the biggest penny of Bucky’s life dropped, and it dropped so hard and far that the residual splash was more like a tidal wave, leaving him sucked out to sea floundering for footing. Knowing he had to take a second to swallow this information down, he walked stiffly to the sliding door so as to escape to the balcony for fresh air, he just needed _one_ moment.

“Need, check temperature, kayak, explore - want to?” he asked, and English was now his second language after dumb-shit blurting. He couldn’t get Steve murmuring that he was _sure_ he could stay on his side of the bed out of his mind, what the hell was the alternative? Human octopus Steve, limbs all wrapped around Bucky - _christ_ \- yes please.

“Uh… sure, if you’re asking me to head out on the lake later?” Steve said to Bucky’s back as he finally managed to unlock the door and open it, the breeze smacking him in the face, god, air - air was good. He nodded to Steve, that yes, it’s what he meant, with all the finesse of an orange on a toothpick.

Three deep gulps in, his brain decided to stop the high pitched squeal which threatened to render him deaf. He had to get himself together, needing to not freak out. _But what the fuck? What the actual fuck?_

Feeling better from yelling into the void of his frazzled mind, he took another three breaths, less frantic than the first. Counting slowly in increments of three until he’d reached at least two minutes worth.

Was he really able to share a bed with Steve Rogers, Captain America, a man he wanted to pound him so hard into a mattress that he came out the other side covered in feathers and springs? _Sharing_ a bed. For two nights. Actually physically _sharing_ a bed… oh god. He’d only brought loose pants to sleep in, and then the thought that slammed in beside it - what did Steve wear to bed?

Well - Bucky guessed he was about to find out in a few hours, because it seemed like the world was decreeing they were sharing a bed.

If he survived until then.

With more willpower than grains of sand on the beach, Bucky managed to function the rest of the day without obsessing on what would happen when it was time for them to retire to the bedroom. Together. Though it was a constant source of butterflies in his stomach if and when he allowed his mind to linger on the possibilities for more than a minute.

After showing Bruce and Tony the modern miracle that was a gas bottle attached to the grill, and the different switches to make sections fire up, the others had arrived and excited greetings were exchanged. Bucky had now met all of the Avengers once or twice, but Jane and Hope were new additions and he felt utter relief when Natasha arrived alone. If Darcy had appeared from the depths of her sleek sports car he would have swam across the lake and walked home. Dramatic? Yes. But there was no way he’d have survived her constant ribbing at every turn. Especially if she saw the way he interacted with Steve, even _he_ knew the amount of doe-eyed stares he gave. It was a disaster in the making. Natasha alone was enough.

Once everyone was settled, Steve and he begged off and stole two kayaks to spend a lazy few hours traversing up and down the lake, Bucky thrilled to be participating in an activity together. Within an hour Bucky realised how much he’d misunderstood the sheer size of the lake, as they'd only found one end of it curling around a mile or so down, and when he asked Steve if it was actually a river instead, Steve smiled, happy, then shook his head to say no it was definitely a lake. The curve of Steve’s mouth on his sun-kissed face, hair ruffled from the wind, was enough of a vision to steal Bucky’s momentum and he lost traction with his strokes. Steve didn’t notice, thankfully. 

The conversation flowed easily and often, yet at the same time they enjoyed long breaks of silence, soaking up the caws of birds flying overhead, the splash of fish and the rustling of trees in the wind, it was the perfect way to spend an afternoon.

When Steve suddenly pointed his kayak at Bucky’s and in two long sweeping strokes made it to his side, dragging the oar in the water to perfect an arc until he butted up next to Bucky, he almost capsized.

“Grab hold of my oar,” Steve chuckled at Bucky’s shaking vessel as he tried to control it.

Steve placed his oar across their kayaks to create a raft and Bucky soon had control back, laughing because it was stupid and exciting and he felt utterly free.

He looked up to find Steve watching him carefully, lip quirked in a half smile. 

“What? Don’t laugh at me, apparently I’m inept on water.”

“Not going to laugh, you’re just…” Steve trailed off, “something else,” he finished, his original words lost somewhere in his head it seemed.

“At least I haven’t gone belly-up yet,” he joked in return.

“Yet,” Steve teased and swung his kayak side-to-side using his hips, making Bucky erupt in laughter and grasp onto Steve’s arm.

“I go down, I’m taking you too, pal.”

Steve’s eyes glistened with mirth, and Bucky took a second to really see, really take notice how utterly stunning he was, how different he acted when there was no audience. Bucky’s gaze dropped unintentionally to Steve’s lips for a second, wanting so desperately to taste them again. His sense memory fading already, even though it was forever burned into his skin. And even though Steve was mesmerizing to the point of blinding him when alone together, eliciting deep desires to have him perform unspeakable acts upon Bucky’s body, they needed other people around for any moves to be made. By either party. It was not just a catch-22, but an ethical dilemma as well. Could Bucky conceivably cross that invisible line of friendship?

Coughing lightly, Steve shook Bucky from his musing. “Smile.”

“What?” Bucky had enough time to gather his scattered wits only to find Steve leaning into his space to take a selfie of them on his phone. Two things were immediately apparent afterwards. One, Steve was brave bringing a phone out on the water and two, Bucky needed a copy of that photo. It was gorgeous.

They looked good, relaxed, smiles beaming which meant the company they were in was all that mattered. It was genuine in a way Bucky couldn’t quite articulate.

“We’d best head back, otherwise Tony will send a suit out to hustle us.”

Bucky laughed and pushed off Steve’s kayak, declaring a race back - one Steve clearly obliterated him at. He honestly didn’t want their exploration of the lake to ever end. But of course it had to.

Pulling the kayaks well up onto the shore so they’d not float back out into the middle of the lake, Bucky watched as Steve stood, hands on his hips looking towards the house, a contemplative look on his face. Bucky glanced that way to see bodies walking around on the balcony, sitting down to enjoy the last few rays of sun before it disappeared.

“Looks like we have an audience,” Steve murmurmed, and Bucky immediately slammed his gaze back to Steve, taking notice of his low cadence, the suggested heat in the words. Was Steve proposing what he hoped he was?

“Yeah, looks it,” Bucky breathed in return as he angled his body towards Steve, open and screaming _yes_ , even if his voice couldn’t. With a hammering heart, Bucky tried to get his common sense to prevail in the face of his pent up obsession to feel Steve’s lips on his again.

Steve took a confident step into Bucky’s space, making him quell at the lack of hesitation. Steve was going to take what he wanted and Bucky was there for it. 

“Tony’s coming this way, he’ll be here in a minute. Let’s pretend we didn’t see him.” He practically whispered against Bucky’s lips.

“Okay, no problem,” Bucky said way too quickly, knowing exactly what was about to unfold, and truthfully not seeing Tony. There was only Steve.

His face was suddenly cupped tenderly between Steve’s large hands, Bucky melting into the touch, the familiarity of it astounding since it was only the second time Steve had touched him like that.

“This okay?” He asked quietly, at odds with the certainty in his stance, it was wonderful and Bucky nodded slightly as Steve finally closed the gap, Bucky’s eyes fluttering closed at the last second.

Kissing Steve was unlike anything else on the planet, and Bucky knew nothing would ever measure up again. His lips were slightly salty from their exercise on the lake, and Bucky craved to lick it all from his body, images erupting in technicolour behind his eyelids. Yet the softness, along with his shaky exhale was just as earth shattering as their first press of lips at the Met. Bucky’s hands fumbled their way to Steve’s slim hips, fingers grasping tighter over his pants when Steve’s tongue pushed into his mouth. Steve didn’t wait for Bucky’s permission as he had at the gallery, _no_ , this time he took, he was in control and every single cell in Bucky’s body sung out at it. Steve’s hands dropped from his face, one wrapping around his back and the other pulling at his hip until he fell forward, off balance, more-so than he already was.

Then Steve licked deeply into Bucky’s mouth, tasting, filling it with heat and leaving a trail of desire in its wake. Bucky wanted, so badly wanted this, wanted it all. Everything came to a head when Steve’s kiss turned filthy, frantic, like he’d lost control of his faculties and was riding pure emotion. Bucky’s lips were _so_ wet, movements sloppy, chasing Steve’s until a gasp was torn from his throat. As Steve’s tongue flicked into his mouth, again and again so he couldn’t breath, a wanton moan erupted and there was no time to feel mortified at his lapse, because as the noise escaped, Steve growled deep in response, then devoured him whole. 

It left Bucky devastated. It left him wanting more. Much more.

“Ahem,” a cough came from their left, and Steve pulled back, Bucky chasing after him desperately, lips landing on Steve’s, gifting a heated swipe of tongue into Steve’s mouth before his brain came back online, and he fell backwards, Steve’s strong grip the only thing holding him upright. Dazed he swung his eyes to find Tony, not watching them, but close enough. He blazed red, he’d lost complete control, forgetting himself.

“Sorry to err, interrupt, but Fury just sent something through and we need to call him back pronto. Jesus, Natasha was right - it really _is_ hot out here.”

“Give me five, I’ll be right in.” Steve’s voice strained at the edges.

“Sure thing, just keep it rated PG - the natives are watching.”

As Tony walked away whistling a familiar Hall & Oates tune, Steve’s eyes captured Bucky’s, effectively trapping them in the dark blue depths. Bucky wasn’t ashamed to admit his breathing was rough, coming in short bursts and he had to say something, not able to ignore the fact it was the most intensely erotic kiss of his life.

“You sure know how to kiss a fella.” _Christ_ , his voice was wrecked, wanting, full of lust.

Steve’s eyes hooded, and how did that increase his sexiness ten-fold? He was already at the top of every list Bucky ever had. But it was the tiny smirk that made Bucky want to hit him. Smug bastard. He knew what his kiss had done.

“Well, sweetheart, it helps that you’re so damn responsive.” Steve’s voice was deep and just as rough around the edges, thankfully sounding affected too, but Bucky couldn’t think further than that. Steve’s words had wound themselves around his heart, squeezing hard before making their way to his poor neglected dick to do a number on that as well. Steve had no _idea_ how responsive Bucky could be.

“Come on, I’d best go see what Fury want’s, hopefully we don’t need to head out tonight.”

Bucky trailed like a lovesick puppy after Steve but he didn’t care, he realised he would follow this man into the fiery pits of hell if he’d let him. Gladly.

Dinner was an affair he wouldn’t soon forget, the conversation enlightening and fun, full of laughs and more arguments than he could keep track of. They really _were_ a huge blended family and Bucky loved it, so glad Steve had this closeness even though his actual blood relatives were long gone. He sat opposite Steve, catching his eye more often than not as they both chuckled at Clint and Hope who continually picked on each other, sharing small glances and catching the other staring on occasion. Bucky’s heart was racing; being Steve's boyfriend in a more intimate setting than a rowdy dinner at the Tower was taxing, his crumbling guard wavering with every look, every quick grin, but he was there for Steve. It just felt right to be.

He’d found himself crammed between Scott who was in a deep conversation with Pepper about ice cream, and Jane, who was lovely, kind and completely complimented Thor’s loud rambunctious personality. Bucky also hazarded a guess, she was the smartest person in the room at any given time, even more so than Tony. Soon enough he became engrossed in conversations about space and constellations and of course Asgard with her. And even though the thought of traversing into the stars to fight Sharknados wasn’t something he wanted to do, he’d always been an absolute nerd for anything space related. His fondest memories were of visiting the Space Centre in Houston as a child with his parents whom he spoke about at length with Jane.

“If you want - I’d love to take you again. I’m sure it’s changed a lot since then, and I’ve never been.” Steve declared suddenly across the table, Bucky unaware he’d been listening in to their conversation. His chest pulsed at the guileless sincerity in Steve’s voice, like he couldn’t think of doing anything better than taking Bucky to Houston in his spare time. Jane immediately leapt in to tell Steve of other sites they should visit as Houston wasn’t the only one with things to offer. Yet all Bucky could think was it would surely be an overnight trip at least? More bed sharing? Once more his brain had raced ahead. They hadn’t even shared once yet. It could be terrible. _Yeah, right._

“That would be really cool, I’d like that,” he responded quietly with a grin, watching as Steve’s entire demeanor loosened, as if unsure how his offer would be received. Maybe Steve _didn’t_ realise how invested Bucky was in their friendship, that he would practically do anything, try anything to help Steve out. He snorted in his mind, _friendship_ \- god, his head was a jumbled mess.

After they’d eaten and cleared up the kitchen, Thor declared loudly he wanted to try a card game he’d heard fun things about, and although Bucky was tired, thoughts scraping through his mind at such a pace he really needed to work through them, he found himself instead sitting on a plush sofa next to Steve. Everyone paired up in teams of two, so Bucky moved closer to Steve, who relaxed into Bucky’s touch much quicker and more self-assured than ever before. A bubble of happiness formed at the thought of Steve being finally used to a little more touch in his life. Because of Bucky.

It was four rounds in when Bucky finally admitted to himself he was beginning to struggle between what was fake and what was real, and it had only been one day. It was exponentially harder than when back at home, especially as the situation was more intense, the close quarters starting to make Bucky second guess every look, every small gesture. Back in New York there were breaks of time between ‘dates’ and they only had scant hours to spend together, and even that amount of time had Bucky reeling. So when Steve positioned himself sideways on the couch so Bucky had to practically sit between his legs, pressing his back against Steve’s front so they could see the cards better, well, that just screwed with him more. As they tried to come up with the funniest combinations together, the quick laughs in his ear as Steve whispered his ideas followed by Bucky laughing so hard he couldn’t see properly, made his stomach quiver with each pass of breath. It was wonderful, perfect and Bucky was vitally happy, but the jarring thoughts that it was all pretend started to chip away at his psyche. The fact they’d spent an entire day together with another one stretched out before them, made Bucky realise how difficult it might be to get through. 

He had to allow himself a little slack if he forgot they weren't a real couple, because it meant it was all working, the plan was going well. Although one thing he was certain of, his and Steve’s friendship _was_ the real deal. After everything was all said and done, he was sure they would remain so. As a silver lining it was a lovely thought, but also left Bucky feeling a bit forlorn, a bit lacking.

“Want another drink?” Steve asked against his ear, a shiver running through him as lips barely touched the shell. “Same again?” 

Before Bucky could form a coherent answer, Steve's phone chimed and he pulled it out to glance at the message quickly. Sucking in sharply, Bucky felt his inside flip over as he saw the lock screen. But then Steve pocketed the phone oblivious, and looked expectantly at him.

“Sounds great,” He managed to reply in a normal tone as Steve pressed a hard kiss against his hairline before jumping up and bounding off like a big puppy, getting immediately caught up in a conversation with Thor who was also in the kitchen. Bucky let out a shaky breath, the background on his phone was the two of them on the lake earlier that day, happy, smiling in their kayaks and something jerked in Bucky’s chest at the thought Steve had purposefully put that photo on his phone. Obviously it would help sell the whole story about dating, but - he didn’t _have_ to do it, everyone at the cabin believed them on face value so far. For some reason it left Bucky reeling, feeling off-balance, questioning why the planets revolved around the sun and more importantly why hadn’t he re-watched the original Batman movie in years. The important stuff. Was his brain broken?

Looking at it from a different angle, he had to ask himself - why would Steve, a veritable war hero, a legend spanning over a hundred years be interested in dating Bucky? In the real sense of dating? Obviously Bucky wasn't a terrible person, he cleaned up after himself, could hold a decent conversation and mothers seemed to love him - but he wasn't in the league of superhero dating material. He was essentially a nobody in the scheme of the New York elite, and Steve could quite literally have anyone in the world. 

So by his own argument - why not _him_ then? The contrary part of his brain really needed to pipe down. But it _was_ a valid question.

He didn't have an answer except a gut feeling that Steve should be with somebody who’d compliment him better, who didn’t work as hard or the long hours he did, who could drop everything to be there when Steve needed them. Steve was sunshine, literal sunshine, and Bucky honestly wanted the best for him. His thoughts had come a full circle, and if he had more confidence in himself, then maybe he'd prod at the sham they were perpetuating. But Steve was a man sure of himself, and Bucky was a terrible actor, therefore Steve _had_ to have noticed how gone Bucky was already on him. So by all accounts if Steve wanted to take this _thing_ further, even into something more physical, he’d have said so - right? Bucky was onboard for anything he'd suggest, and it had to be painfully obvious. But since Steve hadn't, and Bucky wasn't just about to proposition a walking national treasure, he figured Steve didn’t want to cross that line - not completely at any rate. The spark between them undeniable, but having burning hot chemistry wasn’t the be all and end all of making a decision to fall into something which might backfire spectacularly. So like every other grown up in the world he ignored it and hoped the other person would say something first. Solid plan.

When Steve finally returned, placing the drinks on the table before them, everyone else was in conversations, chatting comfortably, card game forgotten. Bucky feeling oddly vulnerable in his own thoughts immediately turned into Steve’s chest, wrapping an arm around him, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. Instead of the usual stiffening up that he associated with Steve being surprised and grateful for the touch, he simply felt Steve move to press his lips softly to the crown of his head, before a large arm wrapped him up tight. 

“You doing okay?” Steve murmured, concern in his voice.

Bucky nodded, then let his entire body go boneless as the conversations carried on around him and he concentrated on how it felt to be engulfed in Steve’s arms. It was warm, safe and he didn’t want to move, ever.

“So, you two painfully good looking boys have been dating what - a month or two now?” Natasha piped up loudly, something in her voice which indicated teasing or disbelief. He couldn’t tell.

“About a month and a half,” Bucky replied easily, realising it was true even though it felt much longer _and_ shorter at the same time. He shifted in Steve’s embrace, pulling his legs up on the sofa, inadvertently leaning further into his heat. He felt a rumble of content as Steve moved his body down in the chair to allow Bucky room to spread over his chest. Bucky squeezed his arm across the broadness of it and felt rather than saw Steve’s grin at his possessive movement. Jesus, he was in deep.

“So, how did you know?”

“Know what?” Steve asked, voice deep and distorted as Bucky’s ear was against his ribs. 

“That he was the one?”

Bucky stiffened up and felt Steve’s arm curl harder around him, to stop him fleeing, and he was astonished to realise that’s exactly what he was about to do. Fingers long and capable ran up and down his back, relaxing him into the embrace. He had no idea why he’d reacted so physically, why her question made him _want_ to flee.

“Well, I don’t know about Buck, but for me, it definitely started with his eyes. The way he wasn’t concerned about _who_ I was, that he saw me and was nothing but genuine, then he said something which made me laugh so hard, and I couldn’t resist pursuing him. Our first coffee date was the clincher, he was honest, open and caring. How could I not start to fall for him?”

Natasha, looking extremely pleased, swung her eyes to Bucky who could only flounder for a moment, disbelief and unfounded hope at Steve’s words running through his veins.

“I plead the fifth.” Bucky garbled, mind boggling at what Steve announced to the group. This is what he was struggling with, real or fake? The people listening in chuckled at his bashful response and suddenly the air in the room was too much, too thick. “You know what, I’m gonna crash, it’s been a big day. I’ll catch you all in the morning.”

“Still fishing in the AM bro?” Clint called out from playing Connect Four with Hope. Lucky laying at his feet asleep as he'd been most of the night. Bucky hadn't even managed to get a proper pat yet and vowed he would in the morning. Dog therapy might just be the ticket to get him out of his funk.

“Absolutely,” Bucky smiled, hoping it didn’t look as thin as it felt, then made his goodnights. His eyes flicked over Steve still slumped on the couch, t-shirt rumpled from where Bucky’s head and arm had scrunched it moments earlier and he didn’t miss the slight downturn of Steve’s lips. But he couldn’t placate him now, unsure why he would have to, and for all of Bucky’s resolve to stay strong, all it took was a few tossed around words and he was wrecked, needing space. Even the thought of sharing a bed didn’t falter Bucky’s steps as he made his way back to _their_ room, only managing to get lost twice on the way, before finally finding it. Grabbing his sleep pants (with foxes wearing socks on them) he headed for the ensuite, knowing a shower was always the first stop on his self-care routine.

A minute into his scalding hot shower he let the idea of taking himself in hand float by for a second, but he honestly didn’t know how much time he had up his sleeve before Steve came to bed, and more importantly the energy to get off quickly was in short supply, plus his headspace was a little wonky.

So he moisturized his face, something he generally forgot to do at home, but knew he should remember more often, then adjusting his pants he slipped into the bedroom, nerves jangling. He let out a relieved breath, he was alone. Steve hadn’t come up yet.

Flicking all the lights off, Bucky walked over to the door unlocking it to the balcony beyond, stepping out into the cool air. He heard quiet nameless voices carried on the breeze from whomever was sitting out on the main balcony. It was nice, relaxing and he felt his insides start to untangle.

The moon was large in the sky and the emitting light bright, the lake and jetty clear and visible, so he grabbed his phone, taking a picture to send to Darcy. A beautiful peaceful moment in time. Bucky’s thoughts touched on the photo Steve had taken of them, not able to fully articulate how seeing it so blatantly on his phone made him feel.

Cherished, wanted, confused - among a million other words which couldn’t come close to describe what they were doing with each other. The fake-dating guide did not have a chapter on this.

Reluctantly he headed back inside, knowing he needed to sleep - start the next day fresh. Climbing into bed he rolled over to watch the lake, ripples cathartically making their way across the surface, lulling his brain into a blissed out state. 

Until he heard the bedroom door click open.

“Buck?” Steve’s low quiet voice questioned.

Bucky instinctually pretended to be fast asleep, unsure on his base reaction and why he felt he needed to. He lay unmoving in the bed, trying desperately to act natural and not be caught out. Though he felt the tendrils of panic - what did sleep _really_ look like anyway? In the end he just tried to appear unconscious and lax, even though he couldn’t help crack an eye to see Steve’s shape in the darkened room.

When Bucky didn’t answer, Steve whispered his name once more, and at the further lack of response slumped a little, Bucky wondered if in relief or something else, but Steve’s features remained hidden. Closing his eye quickly, due to facing the moonlit window and would definitely be caught if Steve came closer, he heard movement trailing away from the bed instead. He couldn’t help _but_ look then, seeing Steve’s broad back shadowed as he stood in front of the window staring out over the water, just as Bucky had been minutes before.

A long deep sigh left Steve’s frame as Bucky watched, his throat clenching at the raw sound from across the room, at the utter desolation in that one breath. What was on Steve’s mind? What consumed him? Was Fury’s earlier report playing on his mind? Bucky longed to jump up and comfort. But he didn’t.

Steve suddenly looked over his shoulder towards the bed, and Bucky ensured he was the picture of slumber. Footsteps walked ever so close and he tried not to nervously suck in air when Steve came to a stop directly beside the bed. Directly next to Bucky. He heard yet also felt the swoosh of air as Steve squated, a soft puff of breath hitting his face, fanning across it, all whilst he tried not to vibrate under Steve’s assumed gaze. One he couldn’t see. Because he was asleep.

Fingers soft and gentle brushed hair from Bucky’s forehead, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t startle at the touch, the unexpectedness of it. It was a miracle. Another aborted sigh left Steve’s chest, fingers continuing to trail lightly down across Bucky’s cheek, to a featherlight touch of his lips that he wasn’t even sure occurred - then Steve stood up. 

Letting out a ragged breath of his own, Bucky rolled over in hopefully a natural sleep-driven movement, and Steve finally moved completely away from the bed. The sound of luggage opening, loud in the quiet, then the bathroom light flicked on, door closing seconds after. The shower started.

Bucky’s eyes flew open and he let out a strangled sound, what just happened? 

Had Steve actually touched him, alone in a darkened room with no audience? Bucky’s heart hammered, maybe the lines were blurring for him too on this trip. He rubbed a hand over his face, finally admitting that his heart was not as steeled as he thought.

The sound of water sluicing against the tiles a moment later snapped him out of his depressingly real thoughts. It hit him like a tonne of bricks. Steve was in there - and he was naked. Naked in the very next room with only a flimsy door between them. _Christ_ , mental images, paired with all the sofa cuddling and the blistering kiss on the grassed area slammed into Bucky. 

Then he heard it. 

_Oh no, no, no._

Was Steve?

Yes, he was. 

Oh Lord, Bucky was going to die - die from wanting too much.

Steve obviously had no idea Bucky was awake, that he could hear him. Could hear what was the telltale slick of a hand fisting over a hard dick. Bucky knew that sound intimately, had partaken in it more times than he could count. 

The tiny moan which escaped through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door, almost had Bucky scramble out of bed to slam into the small steamy hot space and fall to his knees to finish Steve off. So strong was the desire that he had to ball his fists, nails digging in hard enough to almost draw blood. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t do that.

Not without asking permission first.

Which started up a whole slew of questions and fantasy scenarios in Bucky’s jumbled mind. If he took feelings and dating out of the equation, would Steve be receptive to an advance, a physical one? One from Bucky? It seemed he was at least thinking about sex, or at least getting off. Could Bucky somehow get them from cuddles to - what? Sex? Christ, if he could then… his brain might explode. A full body shiver took over at the thought of Steve crowding him, making those same small gasps and low grunts he could hear from the bathroom as he took Bucky in hand and wrecked him. 

But, honestly, it was a completely ludicrous thought. And what effectively could he do about it? Not a lot. Steve asked for a specific thing and unless he indicated he wanted more - Bucky couldn’t assume. Effectively he was at Steve’s mercy (which put another barrage of images in his mind, god he had it bad). More importantly though, they were friends, turning into _great_ friends. He wouldn’t want to ruin that… although - friends _could_ help each other out - right? Maybe he _could_ test the waters, in a roundabout way...

A low keen and an increase in tempo infiltrated Bucky’s downward spiralling thoughts, and when he heard the water slap against the tiles haphazardly, he squeezed his legs together, trying to alleviate the tension which thrummed through his body. His very core on fire, the urge to do something reckless grew. The intensity of hearing Steve touch himself, pleasure himself along with the small sounds, groans and punched out breaths that lasted forever had Bucky hard as granite in his sleep pants. He palmed his dick, hissing at how electric that one small rub felt, and wanted to keep rubbing, not stop until he was a filthy mess and on full display for Steve when he came out of the bathroom.

But, although Bucky wanted nothing more than to make a rash decision in the heat of the moment, he had a sense of mind to not do so. And only then did he realise Steve was still going, lasting the longest time. An exceptionally long time. It had been almost half an hour already. Bucky licked his lips, breath ragged and allowed his mind to wander, musing on how long Steve would last under Bucky’s ministrations, if he were allowed to touch, lick and suck him with no boundaries, no rules - no interuptions. God, how long would Bucky last under Steve’s attention? Probably about eight point two seconds.

Another good twenty minutes or so, Bucky heard Steve’s shuddering under-his-breath gasps and for the first time ever, experienced Steve Rogers coming, and he wasn’t even in the same room and had nothing to do with it. It was criminal.

As he heard Steve clean up and the shower turn off, he positioned his back to Steve’s side of the bed, rock hard and aching in more places than just his groin.

Jesus, he was really regretting not taking care of himself before bed.

He’d remember for next time, but he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t implode by then.

  
  


Waking up was a slow and groggy process due to the fact Bucky had slept for approximately five minutes the night before. So he was still half asleep when he went to get out of bed but found himself unable to move. 

_Oh._

Steve did _not_ stay on his side of the bed as he’d vaguely promised, and Bucky felt like he was in one of those ridiculous romantic comedies he always skipped on Netflix, assuming waking up in someone’s arms who you most definitely were not falling for had to be a story-line in at least one of them.

Therefore he’d not at all prepared himself for Steve’s sleep-warmed chest pressing against his back, skin against skin, nakedness and heat mingling together. He wanted to bask in it forever, stay right where he was but also knew how embarrassed they’d both be if aware of what had transpired in the early morning hours. So he inched forward only for Steve’s arm to pull him back, and how had it escaped his notice that the reason he couldn’t move was due to one of those tree trunk sized biceps currently locked across him, like it would never let go, was beyond him. 

It looked like Bucky wasn’t moving anywhere just yet, so he did the most natural thing in the world, he relaxed back into the embrace, allowing his mind and body a few moments to pretend.

Steve nuzzled sleepily into the back of his neck and Bucky inhaled sharply, stomach quaking, rippling in want, a want for something that was happening in Steve’s sleep. Then, because life was mocking him incessantly, he felt it - Steve’s morning _interest_ . He was seriously in a bad movie. Or a _great_ movie - actually probably the best movie ever shot.

Steve was huge. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. At all. Bucky’s mouth watered immediately at the thought of trying to gulp Steve down to the hilt, gagging beautifully until he relaxed around it, seeing Steve’s pleased grin at how much he could take. On the heels of that thought, came one of Steve working him open, with fingers and tongue, trying to ready him, sliding his dick in finally, getting caught on his rim slick with lube, crying from the sheer girth, begging for all of it. To not stop pushing.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to fantasise over, unable to help his body’s natural disposition on wriggling to alleviate his growing discomfort, which only rubbed his ass against Steve’s mammoth dick again and _jesus_ , he was quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. As much as he tried, he couldn’t swallow the almost hysterical giggle at his thought and that’s when Steve’s entire body stiffened as he woke. Bucky was helpless to move away, Steve had too tight a grip on him, one which might prove difficult for even the Hulk, in hulk form, to break free of.

“S’Bucky?”

Fondness filled him at Steve’s sleepy mumble, “Hey Stevie, uh good morning, I guess.”

Steve still didn’t let go, although Bucky noticed he surreptitiously shifted his distracting appendage further away so it no longer pressed on him and it took a huge amount of self discipline not to scoot backwards to push against him again.

He sensed the exact moment that Steve realised he was in a position of not normacily, that this wasn’t something they did and as Steve went to slowly extract himself, Bucky instinctively placed his arm over Steve’s holding it in place.

Steve exhaled softly as he stopped his retreat, Bucky feeling the shakiness in it and wondered since Steve was still a little jumpy with touch, if it was becoming overwhelming.

“Sorry pal, you can move if you want, didn’t mean to hold you here against your will.” He said with a self deprecating laugh and let go of Steve’s forearm, feeling himself blush, giving Steve the perfect out.

“I’ve a feeling you have that the wrong way around,” Steve husked into his back, then paused for a moment. A long moment. “And I’d usually apologise for not sticking to my side of the bed, but…” he paused once more, “you’re really damn snuggly and it’s been a while since I’ve, you know - held someone. I’m a bit out of practice. You don’t mind do you?”

Bucky’s heart simultaneously melted and broke at the soft and sincere words.

“It’s fine, practice makes perfect after all, happy to help. But I’m telling you now, you have it pretty well sorted.”

Steve didn’t say anything for the longest moment and Bucky hoped his words were not too flippant, he was on a knife’s edge as it were. But Steve’s arm tightened instead of letting go and Bucky melted back into his body heat, and before long was drifting back asleep, warm and content.

A smacking noise startled him, and disorientated he shook awake only to find he was now wrapped up in both of Steve’s arms, head resting on his bare chest, leg tucked up and over a huge delicious thigh until his calf nestled between Steve’s, and christ. Steve was not hard right now, but the outline through the sheet was going to kill Bucky. He had to avert his eyes.

He heard Steve mumble something, but couldn’t make out individual words, and Bucky felt small breaths of sleep on his head, prickling until his nerves were jangling at having Steve so close, almost naked, yet also so far away. If only he had the nerve to voice his crazy thoughts from the night before. Maybe he would, he just wasn't sure how, not unless a situation presented itself anyway.

The smacking sound happened again, and he wasn’t too proud to admit it took too long to glance away from Steve’s… package, to realise the noise came from the window. Reluctantly he disentangled himself, adoring the tiny snort of annoyance from Steve's throat, and the way he chased Bucky’s heat. But he didn’t wake.

Rolling to his feet, he saw two arrows with suckers hanging onto the huge window, one dropping off as he opened the balcony door, just as a third one flew up, landing two inches from Bucky’s head. Quivering in place on the window.

“Hey!’ He yelled down to a cackling Clint.

“Oh my god, I almost got you.”

“Not amused,” Bucky responded, a grin on his face. 

“You coming?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Steve now awake, leaning up on one elbow, bicep bulging gloriously as he watched Bucky with confused sleepy eyes. As the sheet pooled around his waist it presented such an erotic picture, one he wanted to burn into his retinas in case he never had this opportunity again.

“Not yet, I’m not” he said under his breath, then yelled down, “Give me five, I need coffee and I’ll meet you on the jetty.”

“Grab Lucky a dog treat while you’re at it. Oh, and me too, a coffee not a treat, although I’m not fussed either way.” Clint yelled back and turned towards the jetty.

“You heading out?” Steve asked as he yawned, and god, could he get any more adorable?

“Yeah, apparently we are in line to catch the equivalent of the Loch Ness Monster here, something called the, mini-Nessie...” At Steve’s raised eyebrow Bucky grinned. “According to Clint at any rate. Honestly I’m just going so I can dip my toes in the water at the end of the jetty.”

The grin Steve gave him while he lay rumpled in bed was something for the ages, Bucky certain he’d remember that exact moment for the rest of his days. The moment a sleepy smiling Steve Rogers looked at him as if he were the whole world.

“I might come down later, just don’t get eaten by a lake monster, I’m not having my first meeting with Winifred to tell her you’ve become fish food.”

“Sure thing,” Bucky threw over his shoulder, trying to parcel away the words that Steve had thought about meeting his mother. He escaped quickly, before he climbed back into the bed and snuggled with Steve for the rest of his life.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh - all of the tension, the inner monologues, the thoughts on changing things, asking things… Chapter 6 is going to be a doozy….


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if a comment from me would value-add to the overall chapter this time - so… just enjoy ;)

Clint Barton turned out to be one person Bucky would gladly spend his free time with on the regular. If Bucky wasn’t laughing at his human disaster tendencies, or regaled with tales of missions gone pear shaped, he was sitting in quiet companionship with him and Lucky, watching their fishing rods remain steadily untouched. It didn't quite distract his mind from waking up in Steve's arms, but it quietened the questions for a moment.

“You like working with Tony?” Clint asked after an hour or so of aimless chatter.

“Do you?” Bucky countered as he scritched Lucky’s head, who rolled onto his back seeking a belly-rub. And who was Bucky to deny him?

Clint laughed, “ha, he’s a different brand of crazy alright. Lucky likes to be scratched just near his leg there, yeah that’s the spot. Although he pays for my pizzas... so, you can’t have it all. Hey, do you watch The Great British Bake Off?”

Bucky following the conversation easily enough, laughed. “Now you’re onto a good topic.” 

Grinning at each other, they immediately launched into a detailed and somehow quite physical conversation on the show, leaving Bucky in stitches. Apparently Clint was an accomplished baker, another common factor they shared, and Bucky saw why people were disbelieving when finding out the treats they enjoyed came from Clint’s imagination. But, on the same hand he’d almost burned down the Towers kitchen three times experimenting - in one month. Tony was convinced he couldn’t cook and it was all a sham, Clint didn’t try too hard to prove him wrong, enjoying the game.

Before too long, Steve ambled down to the waterfront, fresh coffees in hand for all. Bucky, beyond pleased at the caffeine top-up, squinted to see Steve with sunlight streaming behind him, looking out over the water. He was honestly a god personified. Bucky was certain of it. Catching Bucky off guard, Steve suddenly leaned down to capture his lips in a quick, chaste, peck, still enough to start a fire deep in his belly. Stunned at the ease and natural unforced motion of it, Bucky swallowed a large mouthful of coffee, mind churning.

“Catch anything?” Steve asked.

Before Bucky could formulate an answer, Clint’s rod started to bow, and wide-eyed, gestured to Bucky.

“What do you want from me? It’s _your_ rod.”

“I don’t know _how_ to catch a fish.”

Bucky barked out a laugh, swallowing it as Steve grasped the rod, pulling it back in an arc, before expertly reeling it in only to find a fish all of two inches dangling from the line. As Steve teased Clint about his lack of fishing prowess, Bucky’s brain was stuck on how Steve took command of the situation with ease. Fishing was _not_ foreplay. And that was four words he never thought he'd utter in conjunction.

Clint was suitably upset about letting extra mini-Nessie go, but not as upset as Lucky appeared, who paced and whined as the fish was thrown back in, not even gaining a sniff first.

"Aw, no, Lucky - mini-Nessies aren't for eating, they're family."

Bucky caught Steve's eye, both snorting out a laugh before hiding their grins behind their respective coffee cups.

"What?" Clint asked and Bucky made a pact he wasn’t going to fall out of contact with him, no matter what happened with Steve. Clint was refreshing, not taking life too seriously, even when it was at its most serious, a trait Bucky would love to have - plus he craved the maple bacon, chocolate muffins Clint talked about baking.

"Alright Chuckleheads, who's up for some real fun?"

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at Tony as he waltzed up, eyeing the bright orange wetsuit he wore critically. He looked like a traffic cone.

"What _kind_ of fun?" He drew out, not sure if the wetsuit was for water activities or for some other bizarre reason. Bucky never knew with Tony.

"I'm going to get Bertha out."

Clint groaned, while Steve looked a little too excited, perking up with interest. Bucky meanwhile cocked an eyebrow in question.

"Do I even dare ask?"

Clint sighed, "so Bertha is a huge -"

"- bountiful, thankyou." Tony interrupted.

"Apologies, she is a bountiful ski boat which almost cost me my left leg last time we were here. A leg I very much am attached to. Literally. No offense man."

“You’re good.” Bucky replied easily, those kinds of comments never bothered him.

"I don't know how many times I had to say, 'if you fall, let go of the tow rope' but no… you didn't."

Clint let out a long suffering sigh, "have you inflated the donut at least?"

“And the wakeboards are ready?” Steve piped up, Bucky glancing at him from just the sheer excitement in his voice. Steve liked watersports? Who’d have thought. His brain halted, no - not those types of watersports, something which was _not_ on Bucky’s list of things to try.

“Yes,” Tony huffed like everyone was asking unreasonable questions, “and the kneeboards and the old-school skis for the traditionalists amongst us.”

Bucky by this stage was relatively lost, having grown up in the city and only ever visiting lakes infrequently and never for recreational sports - so he remained quiet and watched as Steve became more and more animated. God, he was like a little kid, adorable and bursting out of his skin. It was breathtaking to witness.

"So in answer to your question, _Clinton_ \- yes, the donut is inflated. Pepper wanted to go on it, so naturally it's the first thing I got ready."

As if my magic, at the mention of her name, Pepper came walking across the grass, Scott, Hope and Jane following, all with towels, swimsuits on and clearly ready for some action… with Bertha. 

“The others not coming?” Steve asked.

“There’s an intense game of Monopoly going on and Thor is adamant he can win back Mayfair from Nat. I must admit, I almost wanted to stay and see the outcome. But…” she gestured to the lake with it’s mirror-like surface, “the donut calls.”

Bucky smiled, this donut must be infamous the way everyone spoke of it.

“Nat might come out on the jet-ski later, after she obliterates Thor and Bruce.”

“Uh, should Bruce be playing?” Clint asked, worrying his lip while looking back up at the cabin.

“If the green-rage-monster comes out, we’ll be safe on the water,” Tony replied flippantly. “Right let’s get my baby out.”

Looking down at his attire, Bucky frowned realising if he wanted to get in on the excitement he’d have to change. There was no way he was missing watching Steve cavort out on the water.

“I’ll just go grab my shorts and a towel,” Bucky said, as the others headed to the boat shed to unveil Bertha, which was the huge boat he’d spied the day before and probably cost more than Bucky’s entire apartment building.

“I’ll come with, I need mine too,” Steve said, grabbing everyone's empty coffee mugs and following Bucky to the house... cabin... huge glass and wood building.

Steve chatted the whole way back about how much he loved wakeboarding, and the fact it used muscles he usually didn’t get a chance to work on, then launched into telling Bucky how he should try it. Bucky on the other hand had no idea what to expect and thought it might be above his skill level, something called a donut or kneeboard might be more his pace.

They were still chatting when they arrived at the bedroom and pulled out their respective swimsuits, and after a few seconds of aborted conversation, Bucky realised they were stalling, neither of them sure if they should change in front of the other. Although Bucky _really_ wanted to stand back and watch Steve drop his pants to climb into the shorts, especially after having his length pressed against him earlier that morning and hearing how Steve worked it over in the shower; he gestured to the bathroom instead before heading towards it. Red-faced.

Changing quickly, Bucky walked back into the bedroom, not even thinking to check if Steve was ready, and because of his lapse he witnessed shorts sliding up over the most spectacular ass in the world. Bucky’s throat ceased to work, it dried up and he couldn’t get saliva past that point. Steve turned, having no idea the eyeful Bucky had just copped and smiled broadly.

“Ready?”

Bucky nodded, words not making it out his throat yet, because Steve wasn’t wearing a shirt either and his chest was _just_ there. He was exceptionally broad, tanned and his dusky pink nipples begged to be loved upon, peppered with licks and kisses, little nips of Bucky’s teeth as he - 

“ - Buck?”

 _Crap._ “Yep, totally ready to see what the fuss about ol’ Bertha is.”

Steve cocked his head, eyes thoughtful and his eyes widened slightly as he finally _looked_ at Bucky. Realising he too only wore shorts and nothing else, he watched entranced as Steve raked him head to toe, and was Steve… checking him out? Oh god, should he suck his gut in? Puff out his chest? Hide the scars from his arm? He was nowhere near the mountainous size of Steve, but he also wasn’t lacking in the firm and muscled department either. Steve quickly caught his eye again and Bucky almost short-circuited. Steve looked - flustered.

“Come on. We’ll grab a towel on the way out,” he said quickly, voice low.

Nodding, Bucky followed, eyes roving over his back, down to that ass again and the large thighs below attempting to burst from the shorts. Bucky was in eye-candy heaven.

The boat looked extremely fast, even louder, and held about six to eight people to watch and be spotters. Huge speakers booming something resembling music greeted Steve and Bucky as they jogged back to the jetty.

“What is this?” Bucky asked, wincing a little.

“Some techno playlist by, uh - Ministry of Sound I think, apparently Tony likes to annoy the other people on the lake with doof-doof beats.” Scott replied with a smile, “it’s not _that_ bad, but you’ll understand when we get out on the water. Last time we were here with Cassie, she’d discovered Aqua, so Barbie Girl and Cartoon Heroes was all we listened to - for five days. So believe me - this is actually good.”

Bucky wanted to reserve judgement, still unsure.

In the end, the rush of wind through Bucky’s hair as they raced across the lake, Hope and Scott on their ski’s and Steve by his side as they bounced over small waves caused by their last pass - the music actually fit perfectly. He grinned broadly, having never felt the speed of a superfast boat underneath him and couldn’t help the welling up of laughter as Tony expertly swung the boat around sharply, making Scott almost lose his balance, hearing Hope cackle loudly herself from where they were trailing from the back of the boat. He glanced over to see Steve staring at him, a huge grin of his own on his lips and Bucky beamed back, yelling over the music.

“This is great.”

All too soon after watching Jane and Pepper tackle the donut, Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Ready?”

“For what?”

“Our turn.”

Wide-eyed and heart racing, Bucky shook his head emphatically, “Oh, no - no way.”

“Come on, Buck, please? For me? It’s just a little donut ride.”

Sighing heavily, Bucky, although sick with nerves, agreed reluctantly. There was no way he could say no to Steve. _Damn_ , he hoped Steve didn’t realise that small tidbit of information, he had an idea it could be used against him, and often.

So with adrenaline coursing through his veins, the two of them jumped into the water, the chill making Bucky gasp loudly and swear without meaning to, before shivering; his body trying to regulate temperature. He wasn’t expecting the cold shock, nor the shock of Steve who swam over immediately, coming up behind Bucky to wrap his large arms around him, rubbing his hands over his biceps.

“Chilly at first, isn’t it? It doesn’t really affect me and I forgot to warn you - sorry.”

“Uh... yeah, s’okay.” Bucky replied like a dope. Treading water in Steve’s arms not a fantasy he’d thought to explore before. But knew he would later on.

Tony brought the boat around to line up the donut and Steve leaned forward, kissing the back of Bucky’s neck with the barest hint of a tongue and suddenly Bucky wasn’t sure he could get out of the water and lay on the donut - not without it being _very_ uncomfortable. Steve appeared much more relaxed in his touch after the night before, or maybe it was waking up in each other’s arms that helped him be less inhibited. Bucky wasn’t complaining either way, but he had to control his reactions better.

Somehow he managed to climb onto the donut without incident, thankful they had to lay on their stomach across the mesh insert in the middle, the handles on the far end of the round inflatable ring near the guide rope.

Side by side, legs touching, Steve looked over at him, eyes glistening in excitement. Bucky melted at the pure happiness shining through, this was the Steve he adored, wanted to tease out into the open. It made his chest ache that he got this, that he was here to see it.  
“Don’t be nervous, I’ve got you.”

Bucky could only nod in agreement, the words filling him with comfort, then hung on for dear life.

Tony was not going easy on them, he twisted, turned, sped up and made them bounce over their own waves. It was exhilarating and he hadn’t stopped laughing the whole time, catching occasional glances with Steve, made hard by the inertia pulling them forward and the whipping of the wind. But Bucky felt like he was flying - it was brilliant.

Brilliant, until Tony flung the boat sideways and Steve and he hit a wave, the donut went flying into the air so high Bucky thought there was no way they were coming back down. But come down they did. Both getting ripped from the handles, and Bucky cartwheeled into the water with a huge splash.

Water gushed everywhere as he came up spluttering, giddy with laughter, only to see Tony speeding off into the distance still thinking they were hanging on, even though Hope was gesturing to them, holding her sides in laughter. He didn’t blame her, it would have looked hilarious, he hoped Scott captured it on his camera.

Then he was tugged under the water.

Panic filled him for a second until large hands slid up his shins, thighs all the way to his waist as he and Steve popped back up to the surface.

“Jesus, you scared the crap out of me, Stevie.”

“Sorry,” Steve said with the biggest shit-eating grin. Bucky heard the complete teasing lie in his voice and smacked his arm, noticing Steve didn’t loosen his grip on his waist as he held Bucky up against his chest to tread water, keeping them both afloat.

“I thought you had my back?” Bucky teased with a chuckle.

“I do, I did - see I’m making sure the mini-Nessie doesn’t get you.”

Water droplets caught on Steve’s impossibly long lashes and together with the massive unguarded smile, Bucky felt his insides clench and instantly had one thing on his mind.

Throwing all caution to the wind, for the first time he leaned in pressing his mouth against Steve’s, who choked out a surprised gasp before his arms moved to wrap completely around Bucky, pulling him flush against his chest hard, water sloshing between them. Steve immediately swiped his tongue into Bucky’s mouth hungrily, and this was it, the bliss, the white hot need racing through his veins. He wanted Steve, terribly - he couldn’t deny it any longer. The attraction, the undeniable sparks between them not one-sided. The physical reactions they exhibited, unable to be faked, and it made something deep in Bucky strengthen.

As Steve’s tongue traced the inside of Bucky’s mouth, he lifted his legs up wrapping them around Steve’s waist, earning a strangled moan, and without thought he ground down, needing friction. The moment he felt something hard pressing against the curve of his ass he groaned pathetically, kissing Steve without inhibition, chasing some indefinable feeling.

Steve thrust up once, the perfection of the movement hitting Bucky in his core, but not even a second later Steve pushed Bucky away. Confused and disorientated he fell under the water a second, spluttering when he came back up.

“Oh, god, I am so sorry,” Steve was saying, a stricken look on his face.

Bucky frowned, wiping water from his eyes, trying to grasp the fact he was grinding on Steve perfectly a second earlier, and now there was three feet between them. He was at a loss, he was certain they were on the same page.

“What for?” he asked incredulously, starting to wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have made the move and that he’d read the situation so very wrong.

Steve’s face was flushed, lips still wet from Bucky’s mouth, and he gestured down under the water towards his… _oh._

It took a second for Bucky to figure out Steve was embarrassed and apologising for getting hard. It was adorable yet completely unwarranted. Steve shouldn’t feel bad about his reaction; he should _never_ feel bad about showing his physical interest, not with Bucky at any rate. Realising there wasn’t a way Bucky could voice all that without falling over his words and sounding like the biggest idiot on the planet, and also unable to leave Steve suffering alone in a misconception, he swam over ignoring the panicked and confused look on Steve’s face. When he was within touching distance he pressed his own hardened dick against Steve’s hip quickly. Before swimming back the three feet distance, uncertain of what Steve would think.

Wide hopeful blue eyes caught Bucky’s gaze, “you’re… uh… too?”

Bucky wanted to laugh, because how could he _not_ be after that kiss, but gave a crooked smile instead, and although his heart raced, he nodded. About to bite a huge bullet by being so honest.

“Yeah, of course, I mean let’s be realistic, it’s been about 6-weeks since we started this pretending to date thing, right? And I haven’t, you know - _seen_ anyone else in that time.”

Steve watched him, expression unreadable as Bucky blabbed on with no apparent off switch, unable to hold back his words.

“And I wasn’t really dating before this, or even seeking that - so it’s been awhile since I got off with anyone else and honestly I’m not worried…” He took another breath, hearing the speed boat in the distance returning, his courage would only last so long. “It’s a perfectly natural reaction. Especially after a kiss like that. I mean as a side note, have you seen _you_? How could I not react?”

“Natural reaction…” Steve whispered and Bucky unsure what he meant, waited until Steve looked back up, eyes dark and depthless. “So, you’ve... not with anyone?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Me either.” Steve admitted, scratching the back of his neck as he bobbed in the water, and Bucky couldn’t help it, it bubbled up and out.

“I mean, if you ever wanted to... err, I wouldn’t say no. I’d be happy to - you know… help out? Or help each other out,” he amended at the last moment and oh god, did that aborted and disjointed sentence really just come out of his mouth? It was the most unsexy proposition in the world.

Steve didn’t reply, didn’t say a word, he looked stunned, like he’d not even thought about the possibility, and Bucky wanted to sink to the bottom of the lake in mortification, because all he’d done _was_ think about ways to get Steve into bed and when he had an opening to test the waters - he didn’t test them, he dove in, and landed a belly-flop.

Steve’s mouth opened and all Bucky heard as Tony finally screamed back over in the boat was a garbled sound, no real words. And instead of dying in a ball of flaming heat, he chucked Steve what he hoped was a confident smirk and climbed back up on the donut and turned to him, seeing him staring, a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Come on, let’s do this.”

Shaking his head as if to chase off thoughts, Steve finally grinned at Bucky and climbed up next to him with a determined look of his own.

“Yep, lets.”

Bucky almost forgot his awful stumbling words for the next few hours as he attempted and failed at wakeboarding but managed to kneeboard passably, before enjoying the strength and skill of Steve as he did flips and landed jumps on the boards with Clint, who for all protestations of not going near Bertha ended up going out the most, Lucky sitting in the back of the boat happily watching him with small barks every so often. Even Nat came out, heckling them from her jet-ski.

All in all it was one of the most relaxing yet nerve wracking and exciting day’s Bucky had experienced, and Steve would forget all about Bucky’s terribly stuttered proposition - surely.

  
  
  


Steve thankfully didn’t mention Bucky’s momentary lapse of sanity when they came up for lunch, nor did he mention it when they sat around on the balcony with everyone eating. He was unusually quiet, deep in thought and although Bucky hoped it wasn’t caused by what was said, he had a feeling that it was at least part of what made Steve look pensive. And Bucky would have felt he’d ruined everything if it weren’t for the fact Steve kissed him on the corner of his mouth and sat, arm draped over him as they all chatted about Tony and Pepper's upcoming wedding. A wedding he was invited to, which was great in theory, yet somehow made him glance at Steve to gauge his reaction, only to find no reaction at all, just a beaming smile. He’d bring it up later when they were alone.

He ignored Natasha’s knowing glances and outbursts on how gorgeous he and Steve would look in tuxedos standing together as best he could. She was getting under his skin, making him think about scenarios he had no right to.

Later in the afternoon, people trailed off to do their own thing, and Bucky found himself alone on the large daybed, propped up on cushions with his laptop, going through work emails and a few reports which had come through. Most of the others were on a walk while Tony tinkered in his basement lab, which Bucky didn’t realise was there, and a few went into town for supplies to make s’mores and other treats for the bonfire that night.

He was deep into writing an email reply to Sam, which was not work related, all while ignoring Darcy’s three page essay on why he should marry into the Avengers when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey.” Steve said, and Bucky gazed up losing his train of thought immediately, did Steve forget to put a shirt on? Again?

“Hey.” Bucky replied easily, the only word which came to mind. Steve dropped a towel on the ground next to the chair, _ah_ , swimming then. Bucky still wore his swim shorts from earlier, just throwing on a tank-top for lunch, and the thought of joining Steve in the water again was extremely appealing - especially after their last swim. Which Bucky was also trying not to think about for different reasons.

Steve didn’t move for the longest moment, staring down at his dropped towel, deep in thought, making Bucky raise an eyebrow, “you heading in now?”

Steve’s attention turned towards the water, then back to Bucky just as quickly, resolve in his features, an odd expression for their currentconversation. “After, I think.”

“Oh, right.” Bucky responded, after what?

“Can I scoot in?” Steve asked and gestured to the daybed. Bucky nodded, throat tight as he shut down his laptop, putting it to one side, then making room next to him for Steve, uncertain if they’d fit comfortably.

He wasn’t expecting Steve to manhandle him and slide in behind his body, legs bracketing his frame and pulling back so he leant against his naked chest. Bucky realising it was Steve's favourite position, it wasn’t the first time he’d found himself wrapped up in his arms from behind. It was warm, the spicy scent of Steve encased Bucky, relaxing him as he allowed his body to be consumed by Steve’s sheer size. He felt small and coveted, and wondered how on earth he was going to ever live without this again. 

Steve wriggled into position, finding the perfect spot moments later. Sighing, he tightened his knees, effectively trapping Bucky, before leaning over, lips against Bucky’s ear making him shiver at the deep rumble, “I was thinking about what you said earlier today.”

Bucky immediately tensed which Steve felt, a large arm coming around Bucky’s torso, holding him still, fingers tangling with the bottom of his shirt. He held his breath, it was all too confronting, he was physically too close to Steve to have the conversation on how he’d overstepped their boundaries. But he was held immovable, unable to escape, trapped in Steve’s unrelenting embrace.

“Oh god, look I’m sorry, Steve it’s all good. I don’t expect...” He rambled then trailed off, suddenly feeling Steve’s fingers slide under his shirt tracing soft patterns against the skin on his side, he inhaled sharply, mind boggling at the intimacy.

“Hang on, just wait and let me finish.” The soft command in Steve’s voice calming the torrent of panic swirling within Bucky, he didn’t think too hard on the meaning behind _that_. “It should have occured to me that you’d been neglecting that part of your life, and I apologise for that. I’ve been caught up in my own… thoughts.”

Bucky felt like he was rushing towards a cliff with no parachute or way to safely land on the other side of the drop, his mind cramping from the jolts of sensation Steve’s fingers elicited as they teased without purpose. He managed to at least form one semi-coherent sentence, “uh, it’s fine... I mean, I’m dating _you_. I’m not going to cheat on Captain America, I’d be roasted forever if caught.”

The rumble of laughter from Steve’s chest vibrating through him to add to his current shaky disposition. “I appreciate it, but that still doesn’t excuse how I’ve unintentionally neglected you. And I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t at least help in some way.”

Bucky’s heart picked up pace, thrumming faster and faster until he could feel it pulsing in his neck. _Help_?

“Oh, right,” he managed past dry lips.

“Yeah,” Steve’s other hand started a slow exploration of Bucky’s raised knee, featherlight touches at odds with the deepening of his breath against Bucky’s ear, “is this okay?”

And somehow, somewhere an inner Bucky screamed at him that if he went over this precipice than that was it, he’d fall into the abyss of Steve Rogers forever. But he heard himself husk out, ‘yes’ instead.

Steve let out his own slightly shaky breath, belying his confidence and it eased something in Bucky, until Steve nuzzled against his neck, lips barely tracing over the skin, before light kisses moved up behind his ear, gaining conviction with every press. His hand slid up past Bucky’s knee, closer and closer, shorts scrunching up as fingers quested over his naked thigh, and Bucky was hard, so _obviously_ hard already. The tenting in his swimming shorts, undeniable, and he didn’t have it left in him to be embarrassed. Having Steve’s hands on him with a driving purpose was just about sending Bucky out of his sane mind. Fingers continued to rub possessive circles over his hip, dipping under the band of his shorts while the others continued their upwards motion from his thigh, now tracing over the fabric, so very close to where he craved them.

When Steve’s hand, instead of cupping him like he desperately needed, started to slide back towards his knee again, Bucky couldn’t help the forlorn noise of loss tinged in annoyance which ripped from his throat.

The low chuckle at his ear, made him squirm, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

The combination of those words and Steve’s nimble fingers leaving his body to rip off his shirt before deftly undoing the string on his shorts, had his eyes rolling back in his head. Anticipation burst from every pore as he heard short, jerky breaths leave his body, his now naked back burning hot against Steve’s chest as he looked out over the water, knowing that at any point someone could meander past in a boat or in a kayak. Steve must have caught on to his thoughts. He was as transparent as glass.

“Do you like this? Knowing at any point someone could appear, while I have my hand down your shorts, touching you, making you lose control - taking care of you like you deserve?”

“Oh, god,” Bucky tensed up, the word ‘deserve’, hitting something deep in him, just as Steve slipped his huge hand into Bucky’s loosened shorts.

Warmth engulfed his dick as Steve’s hand grasped him and he growled into Bucky’s neck, biting lightly, then kissing to ease the sharp hurt which was already gone, leaving only tingles in its wake. Steve’s breaths coming in hard as his fingers tested, learned, stroking one of Bucky’s most intimate body parts, taking him apart in seconds. _Oh Jesus_ , he was going to come instantly from Steve’s ragged inhales, as if it were him being touched instead of Bucky.

“Gorgeous, Buck - absolutely stunning. Just like I knew you’d be. You feel so good in my hand, the perfect fit.”

Groaning at the heated words, Bucky’s head fell back onto his shoulder, and Steve gave a small stroke, up and over the head of his dick, pre-come already coating the tip and now Steve’s palm.

“So excited for me already I see.” Steve husked, sliding his hand back down, tightening his grip slightly, the dry chafe with the slight wetness offering the perfect amount of friction to make him shudder. “Are you gonna let me take care of you?”

Bucky nodded his head as gasps punched from his gut, unable to enunciate the simplest of pleas, overwhelmed at the thought of Steve wanting this, doing this.

“Please… yes…” he gasped as Steve’s wrist twisted in its movements, making him squirm and pant needily. Steve’s other arm wrapped up across Bucky’s chest, unyielding, feeling the short jagged breaths as they left his body. He loved being held so tight he couldn’t move, boxed in, at the mercy of whatever whim Steve dreamed up. He couldn’t have been in a more perfect position, he was an absolute wreck for it. And then Steve began to move his hips against Bucky’s body, Bucky dying when he felt Steve growing longer and thicker up his spine. _Oh boy_ , he was desperate to have Steve’s dick buried deep inside of him, making him sweat and cry out. It was no longer in the realm of dreams but possibility and he whimpered at the thought alone. Having Steve completely naked and all his for the night made him gasp out, just as Steve sucked a spot into the juncture of his neck.

“Don't leave anything where they can see…” he managed to garble as Steve’s strokes became harder, faster, slicked up from the huge amount of pent up pre-come escaping his weeping dick.

“I won't, not now. But baby - later, I'm gonna mark you up in places no-one will ever see but me.”

Bucky shivered violently at the possessiveness, adoring the tingles racing all the way up his spine as Steve grinned against the curve of his neck, once again attacking it with lighter nips and lingering kisses all whilst his hand created magic between his thighs. Steve was a master at drawing out moans, bringing him to the edge, only to back off immediately before it could overwhelm and Bucky wondered where he learnt it all.

He opened his eyes for a moment, the imagery of what he could see, burned into his memory for the rest of his days. Glancing down, he saw Steve’s hand disappearing into his shorts, the rough movements of him jerking Bucky beautifully, the arm pressed against his chest making him languid, feeling utterly taken care of, as if his pleasure was paramount, all that Steve cared about. 

The sounds though, that’s what really struck Bucky in the solar plexus. The fabric rustling, the panting, the growls, the skin on skin contact with his dick, the loud kisses against his neck all creating a cacophony of sounds and feelings bursting along every cell Bucky possessed.

“Oh, fuck…” he moaned, almost delerious, as Steve begin to rut purposfully against him, his own moans lower and less desperate in pitch, but complimenting Bucky’s beautifully.

They both became writhing moaning masses of pleasure, riding the high of doing something new with each other, but feeling so good, so right. Bucky twisted his head to the side, lips seeking Steve’s, who growled when he saw what Bucky was searching for, lip’s smashing against his immediately. It was wet, sloppy and Bucky gave it his all, as Steve’s tongue plundered, licking into him as his hand continued it’s relentless motion up and down, twisting and popping off the end, before gripping tight, right down to the base. Bucky shivered, knowing what was building quick, fast, about to happen, mouth falling open, gasping into Steve’s, losing control.

“Oh, god, Stevie, you’re gonna…” he trailed off as Steve kissed him hard again, tongue sweeping in time with his hand, making it hard to breathe, to think, everything was colours exploding behind his eyes. His hips began to pump unhindered, seeking more, needing Steve to take over completely. “gonna, make… make me come… oh christ…”

Steve pulled back an inch, eyes holding Bucky’s wild ones, quickening the pace of his hand until it was an almost brutal assault on his dick and Bucky keened high pitched.

“Come on, sweetheart, I want to feel you come over my hand. I know you can.”

Bucky couldn’t hold any longer, and he did try, but came with an aborted shout, swallowed suddenly by Steve who growled possessively into his mouth all while still stroking, milking every last gasp from Bucky’s shaking body. He felt the wet mess coating his shorts and Steve’s hand presumably, not feeling a second of self-consciousness, because he’d done what Steve asked, he listened. 

Floating on a cloud of endorphins at what had transpired between them, Bucky lay there panting quietly, heart racing, trying to get his brain online again. Steve thankfully didn’t let go of him, his soft and tender movements as Bucky jerked in aftershocks, lips soft against his neck, breathing deeply.

“Feel better?” Steve asked after a while, sliding his hand from Bucky’s shorts, before raising it to his lips, licking one finger clean, the moan as his eyes fluttered shut clearly liking the taste made Bucky’s dick give a valiant attempt at hardening again. He’d never seen anything as erotic as Steve Rogers licking come from his fingers. _Bucky’s_ come. 

He was even more fucked than he’d thought.

As Bucky watched hungrily, Steve leaned over reaching next to him for his towel, dabbing at Bucky who twitched at the extra stimulation, before cleaning the rest of his hand off.

He wasn’t certain how to respond to Steve’s question without begging to do it all again - straight away. So he nodded instead, sighing deeply in contentment. Bucky had a feeling sex with Steve was going to be a marathon not a sprint, especially if the hardness against his back was any indictaion. He wriggled against Steve, who sucked in a gasp of his own, before a small moan left his throat. Bucky went to reach behind him, finally getting to feel all of that girth, but Steve stopped his motion before he managed even a fingertip upon him.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up. Swim?”

Feeling at a loss, Bucky frowned and floundered, “oh.. uh what about you?”

“I'm good, this was all about you,” Steve, leaned in and left a chaste kiss to his cheek, “ _especially_ since you’ve been so good to me.”

Practically melting as the words settled deep in him, Bucky felt something click into place, a part of him that previously lacked, suddenly warm and he wanted to hear more. He wanted to be good for Steve. So good. But… he couldn’t help the slice of disappointment which grew, why didn’t Steve want him to reciprocate? Was it due to still coming to terms with other peoples touch, or something else?

Deciding he didn’t like the way his thoughts were going, not when he still felt so floaty and content, he allowed Steve to drag him to the jetty, ignoring his jelly legs when he first stood up, and Steve’s pleased smirk when he noticed.

Steve was going to be trouble. Big trouble.

  
  
  


The bonfire was massive, sparks reached high up into the sky, the blistering little embers floating harmlessly to the ground burnt out by the atmosphere, and Bucky couldn’t keep the grin off his face, especially when he caught Steve’s eye across the flames.

All night Steve kept throwing heated knowing looks his way, rivalling the very fire they stood around in varying degrees of conversation. They were not purposely staying away from each other, but anytime Bucky was within reaching distance, he couldn't help but move forward and touch, and once he did, even an innocent brush of an arm, he ceased to think like a rational human. Want, need and blind lust replaced all thought. But Bucky keeping his distance didn't stop Steve's eyes following him hungrily, and he’d never felt so simultaneously desired and understood as when Steve gave him his full attention. It was as if the flood-gates had opened and now he'd gotten Bucky off once, Steve somehow possessed the power to make him weak at the knees, with just a hooded look. He was beginning to wonder what experience Steve had in his past, because he definitely did not handle Bucky with anything except competence and a skill which almost broke his brain.

If Bucky thought he was already in deep before - now he was drowning.

He knew he was too caught up in the moment to worry about the future, and all he could do to placate that ever present tinge of anxiety in his gut, was know that the only time anyone ever possessed was _now_ . So he’d accept whatever he was offered, whatever Steve gifted to him. Which wasn’t to say Bucky’s desires and needs were secondary, or unimportant, and he was well aware there were two of them in the situation, but one of them was literally a man out of time, and he’d decided from the beginning he’d just about do anything, give anything to Steve, to help him in any way he could. Relationships, even fake ones, or those which suddenly turned into, what - a benefit situation? Because that’s kind of how Bucky was looking at it - were all about compromise. Therefore, Bucky would begin the process first. Worry about the later… _later_.

“You look relaxed,” Natasha said, tone light as she sidled up to Bucky, Graham crackers at the ready to make her perfect s’more.

“Yeah, something about the fresh air, I guess.” He replied with a small smile, unable to boast about the relaxing virtues of an orgasm at the hands of Steve.

“Mmmm, yes that must be it,” she replied, giving him the side-eye. He squirmed under her scrutiny. She couldn’t know.

“Have you spoken to Darcy lately?” He asked instead, noticing the way her lip quirked up a second before flattening out. _Interesting._

“Potentially, she’s a funny, surprising girl.”

“She’s the best. But…” he drew it out until Natasha turned to him again, “hurt her and I will kill you in your sleep. I’m very, very sneaky.”

Natasha didn’t react at all, and Bucky worried his joking shovel talk to rival hers from dinner, fell flat. Then she grinned wolfishly, which was even more disconcerting.

“You’re alright, James.” She said and blew on her marshmallow which flamed up. Then before walking off she paused right in front of him, stopping the flow of heat from the fire, he shivered for more reasons than that though. “If you _ever_ come into my room uninvited, I will be the only one walking out of it.”

He gulped as she moved away, then relaxed when she threw a wink over her shoulder. “By the way, double date, you, me, Darcy and Steve when we get back.”

He nodded dumbly in return, feeling his balls unclench and return to their normal position, no longer hidden away in fear for their life.

He spun at the chuckle from behind him, Clint and Scott sipped at their beers before cheersing Bucky.

"Nice escape," Scott whisper-shouted. Hearing Natasha call out 'hey' a second later.

Bucky chuckled, "I know you guys are literally superheros, but everyone always underestimates my sneakiness."

Clint whistled low, grin wide "I sense a challenge brewing."

Then he launched into seventeen different plans on how to disrupt Tony's life, and although Bucky was onboard for about twelve of them, he best thought he shouldn't antagonise his business partner.

They ended up in companionable silence for a bit, watching as Lucky lazily walked around the fire thirty times, looking for scraps before Bucky found himself once again listening to Clint and Sam talk about an array of topics, each more strange then the next. He enjoyed their exchanges on the mating habits of piranhas, but less intrigued to hear about the documentary Clint recently watched on tapeworms. 

After an hour or so, the warmth of the fire coupled with the darkness started to make his eyes droop. At first he was annoyed, as it was his last night with everyone at the cabin, the last night of his mini-break - the last night sharing a bed with Steve. He swallowed away the bite of uncertainty, which he was sure would be straight back at him in the morning.

He yawned again, reasoning he’d had a fairly active day on the water using muscles long forgotten about, plus, he couldn't discount the mind-blowing orgasm Steve wrung out of him, an act still at the forefront of his memory, etched for all eternity. It was the most exhilarating moment in his entire life so far, and he continually pinched himself trying to work out if it was all one long convoluted dream. Bucky's body had been in a constant thrum since, and even though there was a light itch under his skin, he couldn't help wonder what would happen later that night. When they went to bed.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he decided to seek Steve out, finding him in conversation with Pepper, Thor and Jane. But when he went to slide into the empty seat beside Steve, he almost yelped because instead of landing on the solid wooden base, he was yanked onto Steve’s lap. With a small oof, he once more found himself enveloped in Steve’s strong arms, warmth radiating from behind him, paired with the fire before him, making him relax deeper against Steve, feeling a soft appreciative rumble from Steve’s chest, before a small kiss pressed at the base of his neck. Oh, he liked that - he liked that a lot.

As they sat around and talked, Steve's hands were constantly busy, never not touching Bucky in some small way, either entwining their fingers, rubbing small circles over his thigh or a large palm running up and down his arms to ward off the chill. It was wonderful, Bucky felt important and looked after and there was no way that anyone in the group would not believe they were dating. Because damn it, it was _really_ starting to feel like it to Bucky.

He shovelled aside the little black raincloud which threatened to wash out his overactive imagination that he and Steve were the real deal, and listened in on Jane talking about her recent trip to Australia, somewhere he'd always dreamed of going.

After hearing about swimming with sharks, snorkeling with tropical marine life (with smaller not wanting to eat you sharks) and lounging on endless white sandy beaches, he began to wriggle, trying to find a comfortable spot, because although Steve was amazing, and built, and huge, he was all muscle and as time passed it began to create numb patches. But it was only after about the third time he moved restlessly, he realised that Steve was holding himself stiff because Bucky was unintentionally rubbing up against his crotch. It immediately gave him very _bad_ thoughts. Or good thoughts...

“So, are you ready to let me look at your arm yet?” Tony questioned as he sat in the chair Bucky had attempted to sit in himself earlier, Steve stiffening up again as Bucky shifted around, this time grinding just so, in the guise of looking at Tony. He loved the small pinch Steve gave him on the thigh. It was the most blatant ‘behave’ he’d ever received. Did Steve like to be teased in that way? It seemed he just might. Bucky filed it away for inspection at a later date.

“You can look from a distance, Tony, but you’re not getting this off my body.”

“No, I believe somebody else is getting off on your body.”

“Tony,” Pepper hissed and ran a hand over her face, “you know what, everyone knows you well enough now. Just tone it down at least five notches okay?”

“Pep, you’re usually more fun than this.” Tony pouted.

“I’m only two wines in.”

“Ahhh,” he replied nodding in understanding, “anyway, Barnacle Bill, your arm - I have a prototype I’ve been working on.”

Bucky knew he looked unimpressed, and he couldn't hide the exasperation in his voice, “did I not say, _more_ than once, and actually had it drawn up into my contract that you would not offer me a new arm, unless I specifically asked for one.”

Tony looked disbelieving, “was that _actually_ in his contract?”

Pepper nodded and drained her glass, ‘yes it was, you signed off on the clause - I need another wine, anyone else?”

Hope and Thor followed Pepper in, declaring red wine from Tony’s stock was in order, and Bucky perked up, the bottle Steve brought around for pizza night still a highlight of his wine experiences.

“I can’t believe I would sign off on that - but it _does_ state, ‘unless you ask’.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, “you're not going to find a way to destroy my arm while it's still attached to my body, so that I have to ask you for a new one.”

The deflation of Tony's shoulders actually concerned Bucky for a moment, there was no way Tony was that compelled, although, he did have a one track mind, Bucky having seen it first hand now. Maybe he _should_ look at the arm. But no, he liked the one he had just fine. But… what modifications would the man behind Iron Man do for a mere mortal like him? Though technically he and Tony were both unenhanced humans, except for a few billion dollars between them.

He moved again on Steve’s lap, earning a sharper pinch, and he couldn’t help but lean back and whisper, ‘if you think that’s a deterrent, think again.”

Steve’s shocked but loaded silence enough to alert Bucky that he _did_ like the teasing. And suddenly Bucky hoped he'd have the opportunity to show Steve just exactly _how_ good he could be for him, how good he could make Steve feel. And even though the reaction from Steve earlier puzzled Bucky, because, why would he turn down a sure thing? - Bucky was willing the opportunity would present itself again.

Tony's voice pulled Bucky from his thoughts, surprised he'd forgotten he was even next to him. “So next week when you come in, if there happens to be schematics left on my desk which _happen_ to be about the size of an adult males appendage…” he paused, “arm, I meant arm, Clint I can hear you snickering from here. Then I mean I can’t stop you looking at them.”

“Sure, Tony.”

“Sure?” The excitement in his voice clear.

“Sure you can’t stop me, but doesn’t mean I will.”

“Captain Jolly Roger, you’re dating a hard man.”

“You have no idea.” Steve quipped back with a kiss against Bucky's cheek, the skin bursting into red at the connotation in his voice, especially when Tony whistled loudly.

“Good for you, just don’t break my bed tonight. It’s not made out of vibranium.”

And for the next half an hour Bucky allowed the conversation to roll around him as he seriously delved into the thought of Steve fucking him so hard into the mattress it broke the bed frame. It was the most debauched thing he’d ever heard and he hated the fact it came from Tony Stark’s mouth.

“Ready for bed?” Steve whispered raggedly into his ear, shaking Bucky from his trance, wondering at the tone, then realised he’d been unconsciously moving from cheek to cheek in Steve’s lap, because what was pressed against Bucky's back was not the fat end of a baseball bat. _Oh lord._

He nodded and they made their goodnights to a few catcalls, but Bucky didn’t care, he would gladly be called out every single night if he got to follow Steve to the bedroom. He’d put up with almost anything he realised, and tried not to dwell on those complicated thoughts, not tonight.

He wasn't even one step into the bedroom before Steve grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling until his back hit the closed door, Steve's huge bulk crowding Bucky deliciously. He gasped as Steve ripped off his jumper and shirt in one swift movement over his head, leaving him bare and shivering at the change of temperature for only the moment it took until Steve's mouth collided with his chest. Then pure white heat blazed a trail through his veins when he let out a needy whimper as Steve began to suck a bruising mark just above his right nipple.

"Oh Jesus…" Bucky gasped, unprepared for the assault.

"I warned you," Steve husked, "is this okay?" He asked as he mouthed around the join of skin and metal and Bucky shivered at the sensation, it was always a little sensitive.

"S'fine," he managed.

Steve nodded pleased, then dropped to his knees in one swift motion and bit into the flesh of his stomach before lathing over it with a few talented swipes of his tongue, then sucking again hard enough to make him cry out. And Bucky had never felt more desirable, objectified and downright used all at the same time. 

He loved it.

Bucky was harder than he'd ever been in his whole life; Steve's face and mouth so close to where he needed, yet he didn't relent and touch Bucky there, and he was desperate for it. Steve was too distracted kissing across his stomach, almost reverently, as if blessed to be kneeling before Bucky in the first place. He couldn't fathom the undivided attention Steve bestowed on him, asking nothing in return, and Bucky half out of his mind, wanted to run his hand all over the muscles he'd been dreaming of for weeks. But when Bucky went to move, to reach out, Steve was having none of it.

As his head fell back against the door with a loud thud, he heard a chuckle from below and finally, _finally_ , Steve undid his belt and jeans button, pressing ever so slightly against his hardness, but then his hands moved back to his hips, kisses and long exploratory licks pressed on all the exposed skin, tongue delving only an inch into his underwear. _God_ , he'd never felt so idolised and worshipped - ever.

Before he relented and begged for more touch, Steve stood up. But as he did, his arms wrapped around Bucky's legs, the strength of his forearms curling under his ass lifting him with ease. And if he hadn't lost his mind in lust previously, that just about made him pass out. The sheer unadulterated strength as Steve walked him to the bed, mouth on his chest nipping the skin, leaving another slew of small marks behind, made Bucky realise he really _was_ with a super soldier, no one had ever been able to haul him around so succinctly before. As Steve threw him down onto the bed, he fell onto him immediately, boxing him in, arms either side of his head staring directly down into his blown eyes, the huge mass of Steve covering every single inch of his body, and he had a hard time trying to form a coherent thought.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart?"

Bucky blanked at the question, especially as Steve's eyes bored into his, before he leaned down kissing him softly, so at odds with the strength and power of his demeanor. Lips coaxed Bucky's apart and as he opened for Steve, waiting for an onslaught which would steal his breath, he was surprised when instead he received the sweetest, most measured and determined kiss which made him _feel_ things deep inside.

"You drive me absolutely crazy," Steve answered his own question as he leaned back to stare into Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky's poor heart stammered in his chest at the sincerity shining back at him. 

And as Bucky tried to work out what that _actually_ meant, and to say something similar in return - Steve ground himself into Bucky, hard and savage, holding himself taut against his body so he couldn't move an inch, it was breathtaking.

"Please…" Bucky moaned, forgetting all words and phrases except anything which sounded like begging.

Steve's smile was blinding. "Please what?"

“Oh God, don’t make me say it…” Bucky trailed off as Steve repeated the movement, and it was like a spark of electricity ignited in his stomach and began to explore every space inside of him, he was too keyed up, too close to coming already. How did no one in the world know that Steve was the most avid and attentive lover, someone who clearly put his partners needs first. _Jesus_ \- he wasn’t sure how much he could handle.

“Buck…” Steve warned, “what do you need?”

The smirk was back, and suddenly Steve removed one arm from beside his head, to slide it down his side, until it brushed his hip, and Bucky arched up, trying to move himself from under Steve’s insane weight, just to create enough space for Steve to touch him, to grasp his dick like he had on the daybed. To make Bucky his.

Bucky almost cried out when Steve lightly stroked the bare skin of his side, fingers inching between them, forcing them, and god he couldn’t be any _more_ Steve’s. It was almost laughable.

“I… I, oh god,” Bucky couldn’t form words, he was too wrapped up in Steve’s unrelenting gaze, feeling trapped in the most delectable of ways. “I want… you, Stevie…” 

“Fuck… when you say that…” Steve started, eyes dark and stormy, then his lips devoured Bucky’s again and _there_ was the kiss Bucky had expected earlier. All tongue, teeth and lips as he took control, his tongue questing and filling Bucky completely. He relaxed into it, allowing Steve to take - would always allow it.

He didn’t know how long Steve kissed him like that, but he was dazed, half out of his mind with the heaviness of his body, the teasing of his hands, then suddenly it was all gone. Dazed and more than a little confused, Bucky opened his eyes, only to find the top of Steve’s head as he left kisses and nips all down his chest, questing lower and lower, until - “Oh... yes - god, yes…”

Within two seconds, Bucky was completely naked. Steve ripping his jeans and underwear off in one fell swoop while Bucky still tried to fathom the softness of the kisses less than a moment earlier. Bucky was jumbled, out of his mind in lust and could only whimper for Steve’s warmth to return. Usually he’d be embarrassed about his neediness, but the intense looks Steve threw at him everytime he begged or let small noises out was enough to know he liked it. More than liked it if the huge bulge in his pants was any indication.

He could _not_ wait to get his hands and mouth on him in return. 

Steve’s eyes were riveted on his hardness for the longest moment, before moving rapidly across his body, capturing his eyes before zeroing back to it, Bucky squirmed from the scrutiny.

“You haven’t one reason to ever be shy, not for me - you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined, Buck.” Steve whispered as his lips connected with the meat of Bucky’s upper thigh and, jeez… the thrill at the idea that Steve had _imagined_ him, became lost as the wetness and heat came closer and closer to his rock hard dick, stiff against his stomach, weeping in excitement and twitching with the need for _touch. “_ And you’re all mine.”

Steve’s four little words slammed into him like a sledgehammer and he whimpered.

“Please… want you so much,” Bucky begged, for what, he wasn’t sure, but he would take anything, he was desperate and aching and going out of his mind. 

“Hush, sweetheart, I told you earlier - I’ve got you. Always will…”

Bucky lost his ability to reason as Steve’s mouth engulfed his dick for the first time. It was so hot, warm and wet and - _jesus_ , the swirl of his tongue was like fire under his skin. He wanted so much to just bask in the intensity of the moment. Steve could leave him half hard, leaking and never finishing him completely off and Bucky would love it, would prove how much he’d do, give up, all for Steve.

But Steve clearly had no intention to leave Bucky wanting, he was brutal in his ministrations, sucking his cheeks in while bobbing his head, a huge hand cupping Bucky’s balls, massaging them softly, teasing with intent, fingers fanning out behind lightly rubbing. He did this while never allowing his mouth to leave Bucky, ensuring a point of contact at all times and Bucky was about to fucking explode.

It was too much, the sensations - the thought that Steve was between his thighs, mouthing him to orgasm. He wanted to lie back, close his eyes and let the sensations take him, but he couldn’t, if this was the only opportunity he had, he wanted to remember it.

It was hard to get to his elbows, so out of it, but he managed and almost came immediately at the view that greeted him.

Steve’s eyes were closed and the enraptured expression on his face just about slayed Bucky dead. His swollen pink lips wrapped tightly around his dick, sliding over it, leaving a glistening trail behind, and the groan torn from Bucky’s chest at the sight, made Steve falter in his movements, blue eyes opening up seconds later, holding Bucky’s captive. And fuck.

He smiled around Bucky, finally popped off the end, hand taking over straight away by pumping slowly, methodically, with more intent than necessary because he didn’t need to keep Bucky on edge - he was living on it.

“Taste so good, baby. So damn good.”

“Jesus…” Bucky breathed, “I -”

“ - just let me enjoy myself, don’t worry about a thing - I’ve honestly got you.”

Bucky couldn’t argue with that, Steve’s words soothing the small amount of anguish residual from not touching in return, for taking and not giving.

He took Bucky into his mouth once more and moaning, Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut a second before he snapped them open as he felt Steve’s finger join his mouth around him, and there was no way… he wasn’t that blessed - surely? Steve’s blue eyes watched him carefully and instead of feeling self-conscious Bucky felt empowered, felt like he could conquer kingdoms if he had Steve by his side.

Steve’s finger popped out noisily before it began to tease the rim of his ass, leaving Bucky panting at each small tiny pulse around the ring of muscle. “I can’t wait to get in here.”

“Ohhhh….” Bucky breathed out, unable to do more than that.

Then Steve doubled down, jerking, licking, sucking while teasing his hole delicately before pushing hard against it, never breaching, but dipping in the smallest amount - just enough to have Bucky jerk in suprised little huffs each time the rim loosened a little more. Steve’s other hand held his dick firmly at the base, as Steve expertly sucked him down. It was sensation overload. He couldn’t take it, he was tingling all over, feeling the wave of rushing endorphins in his stomach, until they encompassed his entire body. Reaching out blindly, his hand landed in Steve’s soft hair, eliciting a ruptured moan around his dick - and that was it.

“Oh, oh… oh… oh - I’m gonna…. oh…” Bucky had never been so vocal in his warning before, but instead of Steve moving away, he sucked hard. Bucky bowed off the bed, head thrown back, elbows collapsing under him as wave upon wave of blinding white behind his eyelids took over and he twitched and jerked deep down Steve’s throat.

He had no idea how much time passed, months perhaps, before he felt himself being wrapped up into large arms, the warmth of Steve’s chest against his back and his groggy mind allowed enough brainpower to realise Steve had stripped to his sleep shorts and nothing else. Soft and frequent kisses were littered across the back of his shoulders as Steve said nonsensical words into his skin, quiet and indecipherable. Bucky was floating, half asleep, completely exhausted with nothing left to give.

Steve soon rolled him over so his head rested perfectly in the nook between his collarbone and shoulder, hearing the steady drum of Steve’s heartbeat under his ear, and as sleep and the comfort of having Steve’s entire body pressed against him, wrapped around him filtered into his dream-like state, he realised that once again, he’d not managed to touch Steve, to make him feel good.

Sleepily, he vowed to fix it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… err *coughs - that escalated (not quickly at all).
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, these boys are… well let's just say their journey is definitely not *quite* over yet...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all well!
> 
> Gosh these boys are killing me (and you too I'd say) and as things begin to heat up on one hand - other things start to come into play.... (a few more tropes to go, some good, some, well... more interesting ones).
> 
> Have fun!

Bucky awoke to the delicious aroma of caffeine wafting from the bedside table followed closely by the most thorough blow job of his entire life. Writhing and gasping Steve’s name like a mantra as the infinitely stronger man held his hips down so Bucky couldn’t move an inch, then proceeded to suck the very life force from his cells, was a hell of a way to wake up.

His higher functions departed as he came with a cry, body trying and failing to push up against Steve’s immovable weight, stealing his ability to form coherent sentences, so blissed out he didn’t even care he was left drinking a cold cup of coffee.

In only twenty four hours Bucky knew there was an intensity to the way Steve tackled sex, it was single minded, a no-nonsense approach and what was already abundantly clear - Steve was a giver. _Oh yes_ , he most definitely gave, enough to make Bucky almost desperate for it. The commanding way Steve took control, gave Bucky soft orders, yet always ensured he was comfortable, on board - it pushed a _huge_ button, one that no-one before him had mastered. But Steve, _christ_ , he was not only pushing it, he’d jumped up on the counter to sit on it - for hours on end. 

He’d never had such an all-consuming _need_ regarding sex before - already gasping for more, while his mangled body still tried to work out how his limbs worked after the last time. Steve taking him in hand halfway through the night like a dream, Bucky still working out if it had happened or not. It had. 

_God,_ they hadn’t even had _sex_ , sex yet. But with no lube or condoms on either of them (because how could Bucky conceivably predict this outcome), it didn’t look likely. Bucky had failed in the boy scout motto of always being prepared. 

It might not be the worst outcome though, because being absolutely pounded to within an inch of his life in a cabin full of people, who he wasn’t sure didn’t have super-hearing, wasn’t how he wanted their first time. But, even without the necessary items to actually have Bucky begging, they weren’t leaving until well after breakfast, which by Bucky’s calculation left him time. Not as much as he’d like to explore Steve properly, but the evening before, Bucky had been too exhausted, waking up to Steve’s mouth already working him to an intense frenzy had hindered the exploration progression - but he wasn’t going to complain. He’d said a million times over he would take what Steve wanted to give, could give, and at the moment, it seemed he wanted to make Bucky come, multiple times, and he was _not_ going to stop him.

Through all of the other thoughts trying to crowd into Bucky’s brain to steal the light, fluffy, content feeling of being in Steve’s arms, naked and sated, one managed to barge in. Would their physical manifestation of pent up sexual desire translate to real life when they returned to the city? A desperate pang hit hard in his stomach, unexpected, and he knew, just _knew_ he shouldn’t have thought about anything other than that moment - the now. 

Letting one thought in, meant more followed. Nothing too personal had been spoken about so far, soft endearments and words of wanting to make the other fall apart muttered into the darkness, general rambling that went hand-in-hand with amazing sex, things that shouldn’t be read into as they were heat of the moment whisperings. Although Bucky really got off on hearing how good he was for Steve, so he hoped, if anything, that aspect would translate through to their ‘dating’.

He’d honestly thought about saying something, _anything,_ about what was happening, but selfishly, Bucky wasn’t sure he was ready to tackle something so huge, not half out of his mind in lust at any rate; not ready to find out if it was all pent up attraction exploding into just something physical. It was so very reckless of him, but Steve hadn’t seemed inclined to speak about it either, happy to worship his body overnight, so he’d wait it out, see what returning home did. Then think about it, make a decision.

He quaked, consumed with the memory of Steve’s passionate body worshipping. It was not something Bucky had ever experienced before with anyone, and it fractured his mind, making it hard to breathe. All through the night Steve's hands and lips barely left his skin, pressing soft kisses everywhere before returning to the spot on the back of his neck as he lay satiated in strong arms, the spot Steve had claimed at some stage, so much so Bucky had begun to think of it as Steve’s check-in with him. He adored it, didn’t want him to stop, unsure if he’d have a choice, but at least it was clear he affected Steve, and every press of skin in between tempted sensory overload. How on earth would he be able to go back to the normal amount of touch again? Especially after experiencing the Steve Rogers special.

Remaining positive would be hard, but he pulled as much of it together as he could. They would find the time, a place that suited them, _hell_ , he might even proposition Steve himself when they returned home to ensure he’d at least get one night of spectacular sex. There was no way Bucky was _not_ going to ride Steve, it was in the constitution (he couldn’t back that up, but he was certain it was written somewhere).

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Steve rumbled, laughter in his voice, shaking Bucky from his mess of half formed ideas and thoughts. Bucky’s body weakened at the nickname - he couldn’t get enough of this soft Steve.

Looking over he found Steve grinning proudly, knowing Bucky just had the orgasm of a lifetime from his mouth alone. Smug jerk. It was well warranted though. Smug was a good look on Steve.

“A _very_ good morning.” Bucky sipped the cold coffee and winced, almost a perfect morning, but not quite. 

“Glad to hear it,” Steve chuckled at Bucky’s clear distaste for cold caffeine.

“Better be careful though, a guy could get used to this kind of treatment.” Bucky sassed back, realising what he’d said could be taken a few different ways, and held his breath for Steve’s reply.

“I’m sure we could come to some… arrangement,” was the quiet steady response.

Bucky glanced down Steve’s golden body, glowing in the sunlight streaming through the bedroom windows, he was unfairly gorgeous, and it hurt Bucky’s brain to think Steve was here with him, like this. Then Steve’s words snagged in his mind, an arrangement then, _okay_ , did that mean what they were doing was… his thoughts halted to a screech when his eyes landed on Steve’s shorts. Bucky unable to help the involuntary reaction of licking his lips, it was a textbook response, but _damn_ . Steve was hard, very hard. His obscenely tight shorts tenting deliciously, dick moving with every inhale, but Steve also seemed completely unconcerned with his _issue._ Bucky was very concerned, concerned at how he was going to fit it - anywhere. He'd die trying though, and therefore die happy.

Bucky inched closer, leg pressing against Steve’s, showing his intent clearly as he placed the coffee cup down to run a hand across Steve’s abdominal muscles, loving the way they danced under his touch as Steve sucked in a sharp breath.

“Bucky, you don’t have -”

“- I want to,” he replied quickly, yet swore he saw tightening around Steve’s eyes, but it was gone in seconds. So quick was the reaction, he actually wasn’t certain he’d imagined it, but he wouldn’t risk it, feeling his heart flutter in nerves, “unless you don’t want me to.”

“No! No, I do, absolutely - that’s not -” Steve let out a long sigh, which sounded equal parts frustrated and turned-on, leaving Bucky uncertain if it was directed internally, externally or at the situation. Then Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand tenderly under his own, fingers entwining with his, effectively stopping his exploration and for some reason it stabbed a small pang into his chest. Even though Steve said yes, he was getting the feeling he was _actually_ saying no, it confused the hell out of him. 

“We don’t have the time,” Steve finished enigmatically and Bucky really wanted to clarify if that’s what he meant - or if he meant something else. Because although he was out of practice, he wanted to at least get Steve off once before they left, and really wanted to ask what was wrong, was it to do with being touched, the sensitivity, or was it something to do with Bucky? Or was it absolutely nothing and Bucky was reading much more into the exchange than necessary?

As he tried to formulate words which wouldn’t make him sound like a whining brat who’d been denied what they wanted, a sharp rap sounded on the bedroom door. Bucky’s courage disappeared with the interruption.

“Come on, sex machine, or is that machines? Anyway get down here for breakfast - it’s a family affair.” Tony’s voice cut through Bucky’s off-kilter thought pattern, and he shook himself out of it, nothing bad had happened - to be fair, lots of good things had - he had to focus on those, not let his mind wander down the dark murky pathways.

“Pants are also _not_ optional,” Tony continued, “come on boys let’s go.”

“Ten minutes,” Bucky yelled back a teasing note in his voice purely for Tony’s benefit.

“Save me from horny houseguests, I don’t pay my housekeeper enough for this.” Tony murmured with intent for them to hear, “you have eight minutes, else I’m sending Natasha up.”

Tony stomped off and Bucky grinned at Steve, “we’d best get ready, I don’t need Natasha barging in to find me struggling to swallow you down.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve’s eyes lidded and he exhaled a shaky breath as his hand came up to cup Bucky’s face affectionately, thumb tracing up and down his cheek. Bucky felt a glimmer of hope he might get at least eight minutes to lather attention on the unfathomably huge dick within reach, “don’t tempt me.”

“What if I _want_ to tempt you?” he asked quickly, trying to keep his voice even and not show how damned desperate and eager he was.

Leaning in to kiss him hard, all tongue and teeth, Steve pulled back leaving Bucky on a gasp, chasing his mouth, then rubbed a hand over his face catching Bucky’s gaze, a contrite and apologetic look on his features, “I wasn’t lying, pal - we really don’t have time.”

Puzzling over what Steve meant, and how he’d mentioned time twice, which might mean something as simple as he liked languid sessions and not to be rushed, Bucky slid out of bed, thoughts racing and he really needed to stop catastrophizing. First up, a steaming hot shower, or maybe cold, should he ask Steve to join him? Probably not, he had a feeling Steve would decline and didn’t want to hear the word ‘no’ from his mouth again, and although Bucky wanted to push a little and ask questions, he really wasn’t missing out on a shower. He didn’t want to have breakfast smelling of sex, especially his own. 

Naked, he walked towards the shower, not missing the way Steve’s slitted eyes remained riveted to his body, and at least one thing was abundantly clear - Steve definitely wanted to touch _him_. He couldn’t lie, it was a damn good feeling.

Ultimately, it could all be leading to a night of sex that would kill him - dead. It would be the end of Bucky Barnes and he wondered how Steve would tell his mother how he _actually_ met his demise.

  
  


Breakfast was a riot of conversations, everyone yelling and laughing over each other as Lucky was fed more bacon than probably healthy for an older dog. Bucky adored being amongst them all, part of a group who clearly had the strongest affection for each other. Even more so as he watched Steve, beaming smile, joking around, looking completely relaxed and happy all while darting small glances Bucky’s way. 

What had transpired between them over the last day felt like a secret, something new and unexplored and although everyone in that room thought they had been intimate on the regular, they hadn't. And all Bucky wanted to do was drag Steve back to the bedroom and keep going until both of them were a sweaty mess only able to articulate the word ‘again’.

Steve too, if the secretive little smirks were anything to go by, Bucky almost walking across the kitchen to take the coffee cup from Steve’s hand, climb onto the counter and reel him in. Show them all that Steve actually _owned_ him - even if it was still in the murky grey area of ‘what in hell were they doing’.

Instead of acting out his vague fantasy, he refilled his cup, hot coffee was much more preferable and soon he found himself standing with Jane, who hadn’t been in the group dynamic very long either. They weren’t outsiders per se, but they didn’t have the same closeness the others possesed.

“I have a sneaking suspicion we’re going to be getting a dog,” she sighed resignedly as Thor once again picked Lucky up like he weighed nothing to nuzzle and shower him with love.

Bucky laughed, “Could be worse, he was enamoured with a hippo he saw at the Bronx Zoo last week.”

“God, I’d forgotten that, yeah - you’re right. I mean some of the animals on Asgard would be spectacular as pets, but honestly I have my hands full with my fish.”

Bucky grimaced, “Honestly, I have terrible luck with fish, they generally don’t last.”

“Oh, no.” Jane looked stricken.

“Crap - not in that way, I mean my mother usually comes and saves them before it’s too dire. Last count she had thirty eight goldfish and was looking at a bigger tank.”

“I think you need to cease and desist,” Jane laughed, the sound making Steve look over and Bucky gave him a soft smile, watching as Steve ducked his head, a grin on his own face.

“You really do love him, don’t you?”

Bucky choked, coffee travelling down the wrong passage, and Jane horrified, patted his back as he spluttered, “what?”

As she stared at him, her face did a complicated twist and suddenly her eyes bugged. “You’ve not said it to each other yet… I am so sorry, that was super rude of me,” she paused, eyes still holding his. “Oh, shit, you haven’t even realised… it’s just obvious the way you look at each other. Uh, yeah - ignore me. Carry on, tell me what you named these thirty eight fish?”

As he replied automatically, his heartbeat ramped up until it was a solid thump that could be seen from space, pulsing in his neck. Managing to escape after a few more minutes of stilted conversation he felt awful when Jane gave him such an apologetic look as he fled to the balcony, then to the stairs and made his way towards the lake and jetty. He needed air and a huge dose of unlimited space. The trouble with Jane taking back what she’s said, was he found he _couldn’t_ ignore her words, there was no way Bucky could push aside the fact somebody he’d met for the first time that weekend could tell how much he loved Steve already.

And _oh, fuck._

He loved Steve.

The whole thing shouldn’t be surprising, he shouldn’t at all be caught off guard by the realisation, after all it was something he felt in his bones long before the words had formulated. But he hadn’t even said it out loud in the confines of his own mind yet, continually skirting around it every time it attempted to gain footing. Hell, it had only been a month and a half at that, how could he be so consumed already? How could other people tell? God, could Steve tell?

Bucky sat with a heaviness in his bones and looked out over the picturesque lake, thoughts scrambling and chasing each other, panic and wariness rising in his chest. Okay, so it wasn’t ideal falling in love with a superhero, someone so intrinsically good, who fought for the people, who cavorted with other enhanced humans and had the bluest eyes to rival the sky in summer. Of course Bucky fell for him. There was never really going to be any other outcome. But, where did that leave him? 

He couldn’t say it to Steve, it was too ludicrous to think about. Christ, he’d not even worked up the courage to ask him on a real date - a possibility he was still toying with. Because now they’d basically slept together, taken that physical step, Bucky was living in a bubble of sexual happiness, where he could help Steve and also be helped in return, in a way that blew his proverbial socks off, all without having to be an actual adult and voice anything. To voice something which might put an end to what they were doing. It was a fifty, fifty chance that things might go spectacularly wrong, yet, also could go so, so right. 

Steve wanted him, was attracted to him, had all but said they had an arrangement - but there was still something in Steve’s demeanor that shouted his uncertainty. About what? Bucky didn’t know - but clearly it wasn’t the time to say anything so candid as a declaration of love. Damn it - he’d been planning to deal with his feelings later.

Apparently right then _was_ later.

He’d never been great at timing.

“Hey, you took off like a shot, is everything okay?” Steve asked as he came up behind Bucky, only to stand next to him, shoulder bumping his. Bucky managed not to do two things which would have been mortifying, one, confess his love, and two, drop to his knees to get his mouth on Steve. Instead he was extremely adult and turned to him and smiled broadly. 

“Peachy,” the singular cracked word all he could manage, so, he aced being semi-adult.

Steve frowned at him and Bucky wanted to reach out and smooth the lines, touch him as tenderly as he’d been touched all night, when a noise from above startled him and a ship appeared out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” he startled just as Steve stiffened up.

“Crap, it’s Fury - the situation in Antarctica must have gone south.”

“That was a terrible pun,” Bucky said automatically, while thinking, Antarctica? What on earth could have been going on down there? Wasn’t it all sea lions, penguins and snow? 

Steve snorted at his reply and Bucky turned to the house when he heard shouting and the others running towards where the jet hovered. Steve stared at them, before turning back to Bucky, eyes searching his.

“Well, go on,” Bucky urged when he said nothing more, completely trapped by Steve’s gaze, needing him to go, yet wanting him to stay. He looked at the jet again.

“I thought I’d see if… I wanted -”

“- Steve, the world needs you, go. Come on over when you get back, alright? When you have more _time._ ” The way Steve’s eyes zeroed back on him, pupils dilating meant he’d understood exactly what Bucky was alluding to, even if Bucky didn’t fully understand the time reference, it seemed to do the trick. _Jesus_ , Steve went from bumbling words to pinpointed desire in seconds.

He couldn’t help it, he grabbed Steve’s head in his hands and yanked him down to kiss him good and thorough, leaving no room to mistake his meaning. He pulled back an inch, forehead resting on Steve’s, eyes closed and whispered, “stay safe.”

“Buck -”

“Captain - now!” Fury’s voice reverberated out the base of the jet from loudspeakers scaring the bejesus out of Bucky and he jumped back, out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve gave him a searching look, “I will. You know I’m always coming home to you.”

Then he was gone, Bucky’s heart racing as fast as ever at the words, sounding so different without the audience of Tony and with his newfound feelings. He had to get himself under control if he was going to do this. He watched the jet take off with a shot, and knew it was going to be infinitely easier said than done.

  
  
  
  


It had been approximately two weeks with nary a word, and Bucky, although anxious and worried- as not one news channel covered any issues in Antarctica - was managing to act and appear as a functioning part of society. Pepper was an absolute godsend, Bucky working in the lab constantly, just to _be_ somewhere, and she’d appear like a goddess, in sky high heels, pencil dresses with extra large sweet coffees and pastries to share. The strain of Tony being gone was only visible in the small lines around her eyes and Bucky didn’t feel so alone when she was sitting conversing with him. All she knew of the mission; it was Hydra and they were alive, she confided it wasn’t unusual for the Avengers to go off grid, but it was hard for the partners. She said this with a pat of her hand on his and it hurt something inside of him. She thought they were in the same situation - they were not.

But he took any news he could, no matter the size of the snippet. Steve’s phone was still in his possession from where he’d picked it up at the cabin. It was silent, off, and waiting for his imminent return, so he _knew_ he wouldn’t hear from him directly. Which only made Bucky realise, if he and Steve dated for real, made their impossible situation true, it would be missions, long silences, weeks and months at a time with no word. God, it was like it now, and Bucky had no actual claim to Steve.

Could he do it - live like that? Wait for sparse updates, having no idea if Steve was injured, dying or worse? Of course he could, for Steve he’d do anything, something which had been abundantly clear for weeks. It wouldn’t be easy, but when was anything worth having easy in the first place?

The hours he put in at the lab, borderline obsessive, probably skirting dangerous for his mental wellbeing, but sitting idle at home with his thoughts didn’t appeal, waiting for news like a wife in the war. So when he wasn’t working in the lab, he was either immersed in cooking weird and wonderful dishes well into the early hours (his neighbours loving the sweet treats) or he attended the gym, which meant he’d pushed himself to the point of exhaustion after twelve days straight. He was _not_ purposely ignoring his social life, or friends - not at all.

Coming through his door well after eleven a few nights later, worn out and sweaty from a spin class, his phone chimed loudly in the quiet of his kitchen. The swift kick of elation rose, until he saw Steve’s phone, quiet and black next to his empty fruit bowl, _oh right_. 

He should also shop. It buzzed again.

**Darcy:** Hey stranger, when the fuck are we catching up 

**Darcy:** i havent seen you since steve-gate

Bucky held his phone, staring at the words until the words blurred, realising it was the truth. The last time he’d set eyes on Darcy was when she and Natasha accosted him in the bar and he wasn’t sure if he _could_ handle seeing her right then, and not because he didn’t want to. 

If he were honest, he desperately wanted to, he needed a friend, his _best_ friend - a person close to him to hang with and just be plain ol’ Bucky again, with no agenda or complex consuming sentiments. And as much as Steve had witnessed the _real_ him, more genuine and open than any actual relationship he’d had prior (and that required a heavy dose of self reflection and soul searching) he was constantly holding a part of himself back. For what purpose? Self preservation? Perhaps. Fear? He stopped thinking about it.

But seeing Darcy, face-to-face with his current headspace, he couldn’t, she’d see right through his flimsy facade within two minutes. Bucky was too weary and unable to pretend everything was splendid in his spitballing world. Plus he was uncomfortable lying now, he’d been too caught up in the spiderweb of pretending until it had twisted him every which way and he didn’t want to lie to his friends. So taking a step back was a solid strategy. Give him time to take stock, figure things out. He’d send her back the equivalent of a take care text.

How did his life become so convoluted?

**Sent** : we'll catch up soon

The loud knock at the door should have startled him, but honestly he’d half expected it. For the last two years, Darcy had an in with one of his neighbours, he’d yet to work out who, but somehow she bribed them into buzzing her up. He was betting it was Mrs Collins and involved Darcy’s homemade sourdough rye. She was the only person on the floor who refused his bread with no reason.

He ran a hand through his hair, panic rising in his chest, making his throat tight - he was totally underprepared for Darcy, mentally _and_ physically - he also very much smelt rank from the gym and was liable to blurt out in the first minute he’d fallen in love with the man he was pretending to date. The kicker being he was not just a man - but a famous superhero.

Peering through the peephole he found her staring directly back at him, unimpressed he’d kept her waiting. Unlocking the door, he swung it open wide, Darcy barging into the room while he smoothed his features into an easy smile as he locked up behind her. He had to be on guard, had to play it right, he wasn’t sure he had the energy left. How much sleep had he managed recently, at least two or three hours a night? Bucky was completely drained, the last vestiges of energy slipping away as the previous twelve days hit him hard in that exact moment. His timing was impeccable as always.

“Hey hot-stuff,” she held out a bottle of wine and he frowned down at it.

“Wine?”

“Well yeah. You do realise it’s a Saturday night and it’s still early?” She was already at his kitchen cupboard grabbing two glasses down and he sighed. “You’re lucky tequila wasn’t on special.”

“It’s after eleven though…” The deadpan look she bestowed on him indicated just how much she cared about the time and he shrugged apologetically, “I just enjoy my beauty sleep now.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” She paused after pouring one glass, and watched him thoughtfully, he didn’t squirm at all, “is Steve coming over, is that why?”

Bucky tried to keep his initial reaction in check by walking to the pantry in the guise of finding crackers, he had soft cheese in the fridge too, figuring what was wine without a cheese board, at least it kept his hands busy and face averted. “Oh, uh no. He’s out of town, probably the same place as Natasha.”

“Ah, shoot,” Darcy finished pouring the second glass and pushed it across the counter with a scrape, Bucky winced at the sound, “right, of course, makes sense. Weird hey?”

“What is?” Bucky asked with no inflection as he placed everything on a board, before walking to his sofa and flopped more than sat down. Darcy bringing the wine, immediately leaned forward and went straight for the triple brie, she was so very predictable.

“That we both ended up dating superheros.” She held her hand out to fist bump and Bucky halted all movement, staring, leaving her hanging as the words spiralled through his mind. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, not intending it to sound broken. The soft slap on his cheek startled him more so than hurt, he held his face, eyes blazing. “What the actual fuck, Lewis.”

“Don’t you lie to me, never _you_ . We’ve been friends since Middle School, I am not sitting here to listen to you spin outright lies to me. Hell, I’d be impressed if you even attempted to _spin_ a lie, I can’t even get two words out of you.” Her steely gaze held his and Bucky felt his resolve, of which he started with a teaspoon of, melt away. Darcy’s voice softened as she said, “please don’t tell me Steve’s another Brock?”

“What? No, god - no, he’s not.” No, Steve even on his worst day, wouldn't come close to Brock on his best.

“Then why do you look like a kicked puppy?”

“I’m certain I don’t, and don’t bring animal cruelty into this.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe not kicked, but how about a puppy that was getting a really good belly-rub for like - say, just over a month and then was suddenly denied said belly-rub.”

Bucky masked all emotions he could, which was not well, the cracks larger than the Grand Canyon, and attempted to express how wrong she was. How terribly misinformed her ridiculous guess was. Trouble being, the Darcy Lewis instincts had kicked in, and she was absolutely spot on.

“I am _not_ pining.”

“You’re pining so hard it smells like Christmas in here. You’re also literally the worst liar in the world, those little pink cheeks of yours can’t be hidden.”

“Not pining, I’m…” he ran a hand over his face, he actually thought he was gaining momentum as an exceptional liar, until recently when he’d had a crisis of faith in his ability to hide his feelings. So he just went for broke. “I’m not pining, I’m fucking in love.”

Darcy’s squeak of utter surprise made him feel slightly better, he always loved getting the drop on her, although the circumstance wasn’t ideal. Generally he tried to never be collateral damage when one-upping her.

“Well shit,” she decided on finally.

“Yep,” he popped the ‘p’, “well shit, is about right.”

“But this is good, right? I mean, you just said Steve isn’t a Brock. I mean if he is, I’ll kick his ass or maybe I can get my super new girlfriend to…” She trailed off, eyebrow raised, waiting for him to agree. When he didn’t immediately respond, she grabbed another huge bite of cheese, swallowing it down with half a glass of wine all of which made him smile. Pleased to find this hadn’t changed. Them. It was always he and Darcy against the world and he adored that having Darcy in his space was normal, something he understood, didn’t have to think about. He couldn’t believe he’d tried to fob her off - this was exactly what he needed. His tired bones relaxing finally, his brain starting to slow its incessant spinning.

“No it’s not that,” Bucky ran a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up and stay in an awful floof from the dried sweat. He also knew his entire body screamed out how nervous and off balance he felt, “just, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, is all.”

“And why not?”

He stared at Darcy for the longest moment, seeing the worry and undying friendship and love she held for him in her eyes. No matter how abrasive she could be, and annoying with her insatiable need to be the centre of attention - he loved her, dearly. It smacked him between the eyes, he needed to admit the truth.

“I have to tell you something, something important and you _can’t_ tell anyone.”

Darcy squared her shoulders and sat sideways on the couch to look directly at him, then before he could start she held up her hand and tilted her head, “hang on,” she quickly topped up their glasses and Bucky felt his chest loosen in preparation, a sense of profound relief began to sprout - he did need to speak to someone about it, someone other than Steve.

After three hours and another two bottles of red wine, which were stashed in the back of his cupboard, Bucky was lying prone on the couch, head spinning as it lay in Darcy’s lap while she carded her fingers through his hair systematically.

“Jesus Barnes, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I know right?”

“And you’ve finally started to freak out now, after everything you’ve done together, because you had this realisation of love twenty minutes before he left on a mission and you haven’t heard from him and you have no idea how to act around him when he returns?”

“Well, you’ve simplified the agony of my heartfelt emotions and the exquisite pain of falling in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same way. But yeah - in a nutshell - that’s it.”

“Well there’s only one thing you _can_ do.” She said matter of fact, and through the haze of wine Bucky quickly sat up, this is what he needed, guidance, a way to make things better, normal, not have himself tangled in constant knots.

“What?” He breathed, waiting for the profound wisdom of Darcy Lewis.

“You have to tell him.”

“I have to - what now?" He fell silent, his face screwing up, discouraged. "Didn’t you listen to the whole part where I'm freaking out about the fact my heart is indubitably going to be crushed if I mentioned anything?”

“Indubitably, nice word. And, he deserves to know,” she replied, staring deep into his eyes, and he flopped his head back into her lap and closed his own so he didn’t have to look at her stupidly 'I'm right - you're wrong' face.

“Uh, I dont think thats a great idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because....” Bucky began strongly, then nothing followed. It was good enough.

“And there he is, the boy from school who always had the strongest argument. You know this is why I never picked you for debate team?”

“No, you never picked me because you had a crush on Tyson Romane, and always picked him first.”

“I did not.” She replied indignant, fingers tugging at his hair. It was nice, but not as nice as when Steve did it.

“Yes you did - you loved his long blonde hair and the fact he came from California and surfed.”

“You’re fucking impossible, and you liked him for the _exact_ same reasons, and don’t think I didn’t notice the change in subject.”

“You noticed, huh?”

“I always do, you’re shit at segways.”

“Just,” he stopped and looked up to catch her eye, “can you let me do this my way? Please?”

Darcy inhaled deeply, clear in the way she held herself it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Okay, but if he hurts you -”

“- he won’t.” He interrupted, sounding much more confident than he felt. He didn’t think Steve would hurt him, not on purpose anyway. It was more likely Bucky hurting himself in the process. 

“Okay, so I guess this double date when it happens is going to be a doozy.”

“Darcy,” he warned, feeling the tendrils of anxiety at what she might do, or say.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be perfectly behaved.” The smile she gave him did not instill confidence, “come on, princess - I’m taking us to bed.”

As she tidied up and pushed him into the shower to clean up because quote, ‘she wasn’t sleeping next to a sweaty gay jock-strap’, he knew without a doubt as far as best friends went, he’d hit the jackpot, she was there for him through thick and thin, always had been. She also gave good cuddles, not as good as Steve, never as good as Steve - but for the first time in almost two weeks, Bucky slept for more than two hours in a row.

A few nights later, Bucky was watching a program on making pasta from scratch and wondered if he could wrangle a trip to Italy to learn firsthand from the masters, when there was a disjointed knock on his front door.

Frowning, he turned towards the sound, Steve was presumably still on mission, and Darcy was staying in while Sam had a date with a guy named Riley. The half-hearted rap sounded again, and Bucky cautiously made his way over, it was late, but could only be a neighbour since he’d not buzzed anyone up, nor had any calls.

So when he looked out the peephole, he was gobsmacked to find a dishevelled Captain America leaning on his door jamb. Bucky couldn’t open it quick enough, but instead of the beaming smile and warm blue eyes he’d been craving for weeks, he was staring directly at the top of a blonde head. After a few seconds, which Bucky was too confused to fill with speech, Steve looked up, eyes glazed and unseeing. He was holding his helmet, hair in disarray, smudges of grime and sweat mingled until dirty streaks lined his face, down his neck into his uniform.

Jesus. Steve didn’t look good, he looked shattered.

“Steve?” Bucky tried, Steve’s eyes shifted, but the response was minimal. His pupils didn’t dilate at all, appearing as if he didn’t recognise Bucky. It was slightly terrifying. “Okay, what’s going on…?”

Bucky stuck his head out and looked both ways down the hall, making sure Steve wasn’t accompanied by anyone, seeing no one, his gaze landed back on the man before him, knuckles white and tense, holding onto the jamb as if it were all that kept him upright. Hesitating for a second, Bucky realised he couldn’t just yank him inside, even though it’s all he wanted to do. It was patently clear Steve wasn’t in his right mind, or any mind at all, and pushing his own questions and uncertainty into his gut, Bucky knew if he reached out, Steve might flinch from the touch, baulk at it, doing more damage than good.

“Steve, can you hear me? I need you to... shit. Stevie?” Finally a tiny movement flashed deep in his eyes, Bucky wasn’t sure if it was the nickname or if it was the urgency in Bucky’s tone, but at least he got through, even minimally. “I’m going to touch you now. I have to get you inside, is that okay? Can I touch you?”

He enunciated everything clear and loud, though not enough to alert his neighbours, and prayed for another small ember of recognition, he’d take anything at all, finally seeing an almost indecipherable nod. _Okay then_. Step one achieved, he had consent. 

Needing Steve to be inside before anyone passed their way, unlikely at that time of night, but stranger things had happened, Bucky reached out slowly, exaggerating his movements so Steve could step back if necessary, but he didn’t. Grasping his arm finally, he felt Steve stiffen up minutely underneath the hold, but it couldn’t be helped. Bucky tugged, managing somehow to get Steve’s bulk to propel forward into the relative safety of his apartment. It was only when he locked the door, rattling the chain into place that Steve physically slumped, giving up the last of his restraint.

How had Steve even managed to get into the building - thinking the roof could be the only viable option. 

Bucky couldn't fathom what had happened on the Antarctica mission to put him in such a state. Why was Steve at his apartment in full uniform, spaced out and potentially injured, and not safe at home in the Tower with the others? Had he been debriefed? Had the doctors even seen him and had Fury allowed Steve to leave without proper clearance? Bucky knew they ran a tighter ship than that to let Steve wander off after a mission in a daze.

It was then Bucky noticed the darker stain across the deep blue of Steve’s uniform and froze, was that blood? Christ, Steve might actually need proper medical attention. Bucky was _not_ equipped for an injured supersoldier, he had a medipack but knew nothing of Steve’s physiology and if traditional methods would help or hinder. Why was he so unprepared? God, he used to be better than this, he kicked himself for not finding out these things earlier. You could take the man out of the army, but… apparently the training which had been drummed into his brain every day for over a decade was easy to forget when a dick was involved, especially when attached to a person he was helplessly in love with. Someone who needed his help.

“Fuck,” he ground out. 

As Bucky walked towards him, he drank in the vision that was Steve in his apartment after such a long time apart. Although it had only been two weeks, somehow staring at him in the flesh it seemed exponentially longer. How had he forgotten how imposing, how large, how absolutely recklessly stunning in appearance he was, even when in a state of - what? He didn’t know. Bucky’s heart pounded, wanting to wrap his arms around Steve, hold him tight, tell him he was ecstatic to see him, but the current reunion was not one he could have ever imagined. Bucky quite literally had no idea what to do with Steve. Sure he’d been in the army, had dealt with a lot of different scenarios but never an enhanced human, one whose reactions could be unpredictable, unstable, although that wasn’t the vibe he was getting.

It seemed Steve was shell shocked, not responsive except in the barest ways. He’d not even moved a muscle from the spot Bucky had dragged him to.

Steve finally croaked an almost inhumane sound from deep in his throat which galvanised him into action, filling Bucky with resolve. Steve needed him, and even though it had been many years since a soldier had needed his support, he could damn well step up and give it.

Standing before Steve, careful once more not to get too close, he caught Steve’s blue eyes, tired and strung out, still slightly glassy, “I’ve got you, just let me take care of you alright?” 

The words had the intended effect as Steve’s body loosened even more. Right. First things first, he needed to get Steve into the shower, warmed up then wash away all the blood and dirt, at least then Bucky would be able to see firsthand if Steve had any injuries to be concerned about.

“Let’s get you in the shower, get you all cleaned up, okay?” Bucky parroted his thoughts out loud.

Steve allowed himself to be led to the bathroom, Bucky leaving him against the sink leaning heavily as he flicked the taps on, filling the room with warm steam. Glancing over, Bucky saw Steve motionless from where he’d been left, he’d seen first hand people suffering shock and extreme fatigue and he wasn’t sure if that was what he was dealing with here, or if there was something more nefarious at play. Was the rest of the team safe? He didn’t want to leave Steve alone, yet he also wanted to call the Tower. Find out exactly what Steve had endured and if he should have even come to Bucky’s first and not for medical assistance.

But, all Bucky could do was his best. He just hoped it was good enough.

He undressed Steve impassively, noting that it wasn’t particularly as he’d imagined the first time would go, but there was absolutely nothing sexual about any of it. Bucky’s worry was too genuine and all he cared about was bringing Steve back into himself, to help him somehow. Christ, he hoped he was doing the right thing.

The entire time he unclothed Steve he spoke in soft tones, telling him exactly what he was doing, where he was touching before he laid a hand there, giving him plenty of time to react if he didn’t want the touch. Steve’s responses were still lacking conviction, but Bucky saw he was listening, inclining his head and nodding on occasion. Thankfully as he divested him of his stealth suit and undergarments he couldn’t see any wounds, nothing that needed a doctor at any rate, still he was covered in bruises and small cuts.

Placing Steve under the hot spray, he was pleased to note the slight widening of his eyes. It was the most reaction he’d seen other than saying Bucky’s name earlier. And within seconds Bucky had also stripped off to his underwear, clothes soaked from positioning Steve under the spray. Soaping up his hands with a honey and milk wash, he methodically cleaned Steve, starting with his feet and moving upwards, talking him through every move, impassively washing around his groin with care. But it was as he pressed his palms into the meatier body parts, circling with his hands, fingers brushing his skin that Steve finally made a small noise, leaning into Bucky’s touches with more and more pressure.

Bucky made it all the way up, cleansing his shoulders and chest with firm strokes, finishing the task by scrubbing his abused fingers one by one, before dropping them to grasp Steve’s face between his hands, thumbs rubbing over his cheeks gently, staring deeply into his blue unfocussed eyes. Willing some recognition, anything. 

After a full minute, Steve blinked several times in conjunction, seemingly coming back into himself, “... Bucky?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m here - not going anywhere.”

And suddenly Bucky had a wet armful of supersoldier, holding all of Steve as he rocked into him, grasping onto him like a lifeline, body vibrating in exhaustion. Bucky staggered under their combined weight on the slippery tiles, Steve almost too heavy, but he managed to stay upright. His arm had certainly come in handy that evening. They stayed embraced, unmoving, the heat and needle-like spray of the shower pulsing over them for an age, until the water began to go tepid, and Bucky decided it was time to move them. Pulling Steve from the shower, he dried him off methodically, taking extra care before pointing him to the bedroom, and still naked, tucked him into bed. Steve looked phenomenal curled up under his quilt, in his space, his house and Bucky stopped and admired the view for a moment wishing the circumstances were different.

“You hungry? Thirsty?”

Steve shook his head, and attempted to hold an arm out for Bucky to join him. Smiling at the aborted motion, warmth spread through his body that even out of it as he was, Steve still reached for him.

“In a minute, Stevie, I need to secure the perimeter,” Knowing his choice of words were the correct ones as Steve snuggled deeper into the cushions, a small curl lifting his lip. And Bucky had to escape the room to stop himself leaning over and capturing those pink lips between his own.

He needed to call Tony.

But when he grabbed his phone from the coffee table he saw he already had a text.

**Darcy:** Is steve with you

**Sent:** Yes - what the fuck happened and how do you know

**Darcy:** Nat said everything is okay but he hasn’t stopped or slept in almost two weeks.

**Sent** : what the fuck

**Darcy** : like literally NO sleep hes exhausted and disappeared before Fury got to him, shes happy he went to you

**Sent:** right so hes okay, everyone else is okay?

**Darcy:** yes, everyone is fine. the only trouble is that steve is an idiot and he's also dating an idiot. 

**Darcy:** you need to tell him

**Sent** : night Darcy

Ignoring her final words, Bucky finally relaxed, having at least some context on why Steve arrived at his apartment in that state. He probably didn’t even know where he was going, too tired and exhausted to think straight, lucky he ended up at Bucky’s place and not a random apartment.

He turned off the lights and made sure everything was secure, just in case, then made it back to the bedroom, surprised to see Steve’s eyes slitted, he was still awake, barely, almost as if he didn’t want to drop off until Bucky was there. 

Flicking the lamp off, he crawled into bed, Steve turning his back and grabbing Bucky’s arm so it came up and over his torso. Bucky suddenly the big spoon for the first time; he exhaled slowly at the sensation of his body touching all along Steve from calf to shoulder, having missed the touch more than he realised. Pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s neck, in the same spot Steve always kissed him, he whispered words of comfort until Steve had relaxed completely in his arms, soft snores escaping in minutes.

Bucky lay in darkness for what felt like hours, holding Steve, running his hands over him in comfort, wanting to bash his stupid thick serum enhanced skull against a hard wall.

No sleep for two weeks. That was insanely stupid - Steve was a damn idiot and Bucky would tell him in no uncertain terms first thing in the morning, _after_ he’d made him coffee and breakfast and let him sleep in. 

He was a big sucker.

  
  
  


Bucky woke up with a start, the room cloaked in the heavy darkness only early morning could bring, indicating only a scant few hours had passed since Steve arrived on his doorstep. Wriggling deeper into the mattress, his tired mind tried to figure why he was suddenly awake.

Then he felt it. Kisses travelling slowly down his spine. 

Steve was awake, and not only awake but exploring. Huge hands spanned Bucky’s sides as Steve’s tongue and lips trailed over the exposed skin of his back, and _Jesus,_ he couldn’t halt his natural reaction to squirm and let out a long moan. He’d never felt anything so right, so absolutely perfect as that talented mouth in his life. Steve’s hands warm and so very solid, holding him in place, firm but gentle as he took his time relearning the plane of Bucky's body.

“You awake, sweetheart?” Steve’s throaty murmur vibrated through him, breaths of air soft against his skin, goosebumps erupting across his body. 

Bucky hummed in return, not ready to speak out loud to break the charged moment, the cover of darkness making the entire affair more intimate, and he felt closer and more vulnerable with Steve than usual. The difference between a fully lit lakeside room in a veritable mansion compared to his shadowy familiar apartment in Brooklyn was dreamlike, as if it were happening purely in his mind. But the press of Steve’s open mouth on his skin, inhaling deeply was most definitely not a dream.

“Missed this so much,” Steve whispered into the dark like a secret as his lips moved downwards, towards the band of Bucky’s sleep pants, his stomach erupting in swirls of pent up yearning and anticipation.

But his common sense prevailed momentarily, unable to gloss over what had transpired earlier that evening, “Steve, are you okay? I think you need your sleep, more than -”

He gasped when Steve’s tongue dipped under the tight band, god, how could just that small flick of wetness feel so damn hot? 

“Sleep is the furthest thing on my mind right now,” was the low rumble and Bucky’s pants were uncerimoniously tugged down until the band rested below his ass cheeks, tight and restrictive and _fuck_ …

Heaving in a breath, Steve continued on, kissing over the roundness of one cheek, small kitten licks punctured with long suggestive lathes, “you… _shit,_ you were dead… on your feet hours ago, didn’t know me...” Bucky lost coherent thought when Steve sucked the plush skin into his mouth, bruising, possessive, humming and biting. His brain started to release a string of expletives, each one more needy and whiney as the one previous.

“Super serum,” was the reply, “and I’ll _always_ know you,” he bit down enough to make Bucky cry out, and he gave up thinking, unable to stop wondering what else the serum could do to a person, what else it could enhance. 

“You have no idea, baby, you’re in for a treat.”

Bucky flushed red, not realising he’d said it out loud. Steve’s words elicited a spiral of lust, so hard and potent he shook with it, “I want… shit, yes…”

Steve chuckled against his skin and Bucky couldn’t believe words had failed him once again. He completely lost his head with Steve’s laser-like focus on him.

“Been thinking about this non-stop for weeks now, kissing you all over, tasting every exposed slither of skin I can get my mouth on.”

“ _Steve_ you can’t…” and he was gone, Steve’s tongue slipping between the cleft of his cheeks, teasing lightly, fingers prodding and pulling him apart and jesus fuck - he wasn’t able to finish, couldn’t remember what he was trying to articluate. Not when Steve’s tongue trailed the lightest flick over his rim.

“Can’t what?” Steve laughed against his hole and it tore Bucky apart at how filthy the whole situation was. The slight embarrassment of it burning him red and he loved it, honestly didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. Ever again.

“Nothing…" he breathed, relaxing as Steve explored further, licking, tasting, humming against the most intimate part of him, making him squirm and pant; whispering incoherent pleas into his pillow. 

“That’s what I thought,” Steve muttered, then breached him, Bucky yelping and writhing, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation but unable to move away. Steve was an immovable force, holding him in place and the idea he could come untouched passed through his muddled mind. He could, he honestly thought it was a strong possibility, he was so keyed up to the fact of Steve mouthing him so obscenely, making him fall apart, making him easy and pliable. Letting out a wrecked moan, Bucky managed to press up into Steve’s mouth a minimal amount, enough to make his eyes roll back into his head as he deepened the crude kiss. 

Waking up to Steve’s mouth on his body had to be a way of life. God Bucky loved him.

“So responsive, so good for me,” Steve uttered, continuing to lather attention on Bucky’s twitching ass, the sounds from Steve throat indecent, but it was that small string of words that had Bucky sighing deeply, floating inside, wrapping him in a tight embrace of euphoria.

“Want… I want to... be so good for you,” he managed to articulate. 

Steve stilled for the barest second before letting out a low guttural growl and Bucky's legs were pulled wide apart, pants torn from his body, hearing a rip that left him shuddering. Then Steve laid himself between his stretched out legs, tonguing deeply into him and _christ_ … 

Seconds, minutes, hours passed while Bucky was assaulted beautifully with fingers, a talented tongue and lips. He was a sobbing mess, tears streaking into the pillow underneath him, Steve having pulled him up on his knees at some timeless interval, and he was so open, so exposed and he adored every second of the unconditional attention. His muscle loosened under Steve’s gentle and relentless ministrations, the extra care imperative, as Steve was more than substantial, probably the biggest he'd ever had. He was gasping for it, for being filled up, completed. By Steve.

“Want you in me…” he managed to cry out, voice strained and wrecked. “So much.. need… god, Steve… please…”

“Hush, sweetheart, soon - I need to get you nice and ready for me, okay.”

Bucky gave an unsteady nod, knowing Steve couldn’t see the movement in the dark - or could he? What powers did he even possess? Apparently powers that left Bucky a writhing, groaning, crying mess, and he was so there for it.

When Steve pressed more slicked fingers inside him, having clearly found the lube, he jostled backwards whimpering, at breaking point, so taut, coiled like a spring - and then suddenly left him. The choke of pure torment seized his throat, and a huge warm hand landed on the small of his back, rubbing comfortingly. Lessening the loss of being so full only seconds ago.

“It’s alright, I’m right here,” suddenly the bedside light flicked on, Bucky instinctively trying to hide his face, knowing the mess he presented. Steve caught his chin, holding him steadfast, staring deeply into his eyes, Bucky only seeing the thinnest ring of blue around his pupils, Steve was just as dazed as Bucky. Oh, thank christ.

“I want to see you, I want to watch you take every inch of me, and I want to look into your eyes while I do it.” Steve said, his voice low and commanding and Bucky could only give the barest of nods, completely gone, desperate to the depths of his bones for Steve.

But then he left with a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be back in a second, don't move an inch.” 

Bucky was left gasping prolonged breaths, trying to grapple with what he’d been woken up to. He was fucked, so totally and well and truly fucked and he didn’t mean in the biblical sense either. 

Steve was different, so much more talkative, saying things that trembled the very foundation of Bucky’s ideals and thoughts on what they were. Was it just sex for Steve, was he saying all the things he knew would push Bucky to the edge, make him scream out for more; had he realised being told what to do firmly, to be looked after so completely made Bucky a mewling, whimpering mess? Or did it mean something else altogether for Steve, and why was it so terrifying to ask, to find out?

Before he could spiral too far, Steve returned.

He didn’t have time to react as Steve drove his body back into his, kissing deeply, out of control, as if the minute they’d been apart was torture. Bucky sighed into Steve’s mouth, tasting the toothpaste and freshness - this man was actually going to kill him.

“Condoms?” Steve husked, the kiss leaving them both lacking in breath.

Bucky gestured, proud his arm worked to motion towards the bedside drawer, and moments later Steve was back over him, the crinkling of a packet in the hand that held his weight on the bed and the other tenderly holding his face, leaning in for another chaste, but thorough kiss and Bucky melted.

“You’re sure?” Steve asked, eyes holding him trapped, searching for any sign of uncertainty, Bucky scared to imagine exactly what Steve could read. So Bucky nodded instead, words escaping him, certain he’d blurt out a litany of adoration if he spoke.

Watching Steve prepare him was something Bucky would tuck away in his memory vault forever, the care, the attention to his comfort, the soft searching looks and small half tilt of Steve’s lip as he made him cry out, sending a wave of pure love through Bucky. He was floating, flying high into the atmosphere, never once having felt the care Steve now ravaged on him.

Not sure if he spaced out for a moment, but the next thing he knew, Steve was above him, sinews popping in his arms, holding his full weight above Bucky. Gaze searching, tracing Bucky’s every feature and he closed his eyes, unsure if he could hide his feelings, but Steve didn’t allow it, grinding against him harshly until they flew open again on a gasp. Steve smiled as he lined himself up, and the delicious feel of a blunt dick nudged slowly, softly against his rim, ensuring Bucky loosened his legs until they fell even wider apart. The wonderful, yet aching warmth of being split open followed, in the best way.

“Oh god… yes,” he gasped as Steve started to pulse small jerks at first, trying to kindly pass the tight ring of muscle, watching Bucky’s face with a look of awe swept up with care. Bucky once more closed his eyes, especially when Steve began to push in with intent. He was dying, he was dead, ready to say goodbye to a cruel and most wonderful world. “Yes… oh fuck, I’m so full already… shit...”

Bucky knew how far gone into ecstasy he’d fallen, purely from the language spewing out of his mouth, but god - he couldn’t help it. It was exquisite, every single cell in his body held Steve, there was only Steve now - nothing else. And then Steve bottomed out, Bucky’s breath catching at the sensation, chest heaving, eyes glazing over, unseeing, trying to blink focus back. Christ, he was stretched wide, stuffed so full his breathing was labouring. 

A hand, large and kind cupped his cheek and Bucky looked up, no longer caring if Steve could read his emotions plainly, but whatever he saw made Steve crash his lips onto Bucky’s, tongue pushing deep all while he remained seated deep inside of him, unmoving, allowing Bucky time to adjust. There could be _no_ adjusting, not to having this, Steve, inside of him finally. He was borderline hysterical for it, bursting from every seam, jerking up in a clear instruction to move, to do _something._

Steve complied, pulling out then thrusting deep, hard and Bucky howled into the kiss, having never felt anything so all-consuming before, and he couldn’t tell in his addled brain if it was due to Steve being so thick, if it had been too long since he’d done this last or if it was just that his feelings were so tangled up, but he’d never felt more alive, more aware of everything, of feeling possessed, completely.

“God, sweetheart you’re so tight, so goddamn warm around me, feel so good.” Steve rasped against his lips and Bucky pressed forward again, kissing hungrily, messily.

“Fuck me, Stevie, fuck me so hard I can’t feel anything else for days.”

Steve’s eyes morphed to pure black.

Then Bucky left the stratosphere, only his body remained behind, his spirit was flying. Steve fucked into him hard and fast and _oh_ so damn thoroughly, nothing in the world could ever eclipse the moment, the weight, the strength of him, the dragging of Steve through his tightness, each pass loosening him a little more until his hands came up to grab Steve’s arms, squeezing absently, puffing out words of adoration, how good Steve felt deep inside of him, how he was going to make him come, Steve almost frenzied in his movements at Bucky’s words. And before he knew it, Bucky _was_ coming between them, shaking, sobbing, completely untouched for the first time in his adult life.

Twitching and calling out, his whole body on fire, he finally noticed Steve’s hips falter, before he stopped his thrusts, staring down at Bucky as if he were the most precious thing in the known world, like he was the only person who mattered.

“Oh, you _are_ good for me, the absolute best.” Steve murmured, peppering kisses over Bucky’s face and he managed a sloppy smile, body still twitching and dick pulsing languidly between them, he was officially a boneless mess. “Are you too sensitive now? Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Bucky all but yelled, “please…” 

Steve complied immediately, slamming into him again and again, ruthlessly.

Bucky’s eyes flew to the back of his head, rolling as Steve took his pleasure, grunting and whispering words of encouragement continually, until time ceased to mean anything. Steve could have been pounding into him for hours, screwing Bucky through coming once again, this time hand jerking him roughly until he was a wrung out pile of sweat, incoherent. All he knew was Steve, deep inside of him, around him, caring for him, loving on him like he’d never experienced before. Bucky was floating in utter bliss, only coming back into himself when the coolness of a damp cloth woke him from his stupor, wiping gently at the mess on his stomach, Steve had managed to wring a total of three orgasms out of him. Through the haze Bucky noticed the faint outline of sunlight filtering through his curtains, they’d been at it for hours and Bucky could tell, he was sore in the most delicious ways, unable to speak, to respond to Steve’s words of comfort.

Soon he was enveloped in Steve’s arms again, and as his brain and body checked out into a dreamless sleep, he felt Steve pressing himself up against his back, and as blackness grasped at him, wondered if Steve had come at all, inherently disappointed he'd potentially missed it.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading along, I sincerely hope you've enjoyed what I've put these boys through so far - but I've not finished with them yet!! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy! Okay guys - a lot happens in this chapter (somehow it turned into a 12k monster… what is it with these boys??) So I hope you enjoy discovering the next stage of their story.
> 
> And I know I've done this a few times already but I can't thank each and every one of you enough for your unending patience as these two boys realise (in a glacial pace) what they mean to each other - I know it’s been tough on you all, but hopefully it will be worth all the pain!

The next time Bucky woke up, it was to a completely different sensation than in the middle of the night. It was to a panicked alertness that his apartment was on fire. The smoke alarm blared and the acrid smell of burning infiltrated his nostrils and he jumped from bed quicker than any Avenger to the rescue in history. He raced through to the kitchen, only to find a red faced Steve wafting a towel at the offending alarm, while tendrils of smoke rose from his previously pristine toaster.

Bucky laughed hard, holding his sides because if he let go he was certain he’d wet himself, having bypassed the toilet in the face of his livelihood being burnt to the ground.

Steve looked aghast at being caught, and Bucky if possible laughed even harder, walking over to his supply closet to fish out the broom and leant up to catch the small button, switching off the incessant shrieking.

Turning to Steve, he couldn’t stop the huge grin plastered on his face, watching as Steve adorably ducked his head then shrugged nonchalantly, like he’d not just tried to burn Bucky’s place to the ground.

“Good morning?” Steve questioned with a look that borderline contrite and embarrassed, and Bucky was completely enamoured at the scene. It was charming, making his chest thump erratically, and the early morning activities still made Bucky feel things - actually physically feel. He’d not been taken in that way, enough to make him sore the next morning, for years. It was absolutely delicious and he tried not to squirm just to make it ache inside again. 

A moment later as Steve threw the cindered bread into the bin, Bucky realised they’d never experienced this before, the two of them pottering around in the morning with no one to interrupt or steal the last cup of coffee from the pot. And he wanted to be excited, truly he did, but found himself unintentionally holding back a reserve. Sure, Steve was there, choosing to land at Bucky’s door the night before then instigating the hottest sex of his life. But… and there was that pesky word again - but, something felt off and he couldn't pinpoint it. He needed to work out what the hindrance was before it drove him crazy. Bucky also unwilling to give any more of himself over than he'd already done.

What a joke - Steve already had everything of him. Wrapped up in a neat bow. 

Bucky wondered if he knew.

“It _will_ be a good morning if you manage to keep my kitchen intact and not let it go down in a blaze of glory while trying to cook, I assume breakfast? Which consists of…” Bucky poked around and laughed even more as Steve tried to push him out of the way, “toast - that’s it - toast. How are you a functioning adult in society?”

“Hey I've been trapped in ice for most of my life, give me a break.”

“Come on pal, don't pull that 'I've been frozen for years' line on me - toast Stevie, it’s just toast."

Steve's eyes softened as he crowded Bucky against the bench and _oh,_ “I think that's enough teasing, your toaster is a mechanical nightmare."

“Oh please,” Bucky huffed out a laugh and Steve bent down to nuzzle his neck, strong body before him and hard surface behind. His insides lurched at the domestic scene they presented but also at how he could already be gasping for Steve to take him again. Hoping it might be on the cards. But wait, he had every right to _make_ it on the cards. Consenting adults and all that.

“You even hungry?” Steve leaned back, eyes already hooded in a knowing way and Bucky gulped.

“Not for toast," he managed before Steve yanked him up onto the bench, legs spread as Steve slotted perfectly between them, and yep. This was his kind of breakfast.

Steve’s lips pressed harder against his neck, tongue tracing patterns, making Bucky’s stomach quiver. Hands pulled him forward by his ass and suddenly Steve was grinding on him and Bucky was so on board with everything. Except this time he wanted a taste.

“Sofa…” he strangled as Steve’s hands dipped into his pants and within seconds he was up in the air and just before he was unceremoniously dumped on the cushions, he rasped, “on top.”

Steve thankfully understood his request and spun as he sat, Bucky straddling his lap. God he adored being on top and couldn’t wait to slide Steve into him, inch by inch. But he had other plans for that morning.

Bucky pressed his ass down, moaning at the added friction it leant, at the way Steve grasped his hips pulling for further leverage. Pushing his tongue deep into Steve's mouth, he started to take control of the movements, the kisses, and felt Steve stiffen, before loosening up and moaning into Bucky's mouth. _Interesting_. 

Steve of course was the more dominant partner, hands down, and Bucky adored being taken care of, yet Bucky could, and still enjoyed, taking the reins on occasion. And Steve was clearly reluctant to give himself over, very much so. Bucky couldn't help the small niggling voice in the back of his mind asking if it was _him_ that made Steve uneasy? Or did Steve not want to be touched at all, and if so why?

A quick thrust up against his aching hole, stopped all negative thoughts and Bucky slithered his hand between them. Grasping Steve for the first time.

The gasp from Steve's throat was gratifying, hoarse, surprised, his head fell back against the sofa and Bucky took it for a good sign. Steve was thick, something he knew intimately, but to hold his dick in his hand, to have his fingers slip inside Steve's sweats, (a pair of Bucky's oversized sweats, actually), to rub him, _feel_ him, well, it was a whole other ballgame. And he loved it… loved Steve.

Watching Steve closely whose eyes had slid shut as Bucky slowly began to stroke his shaft with intent, in a slow and steady rhythm, he felt something loosen in his throat. Steve was enjoying it, face screwing up in pleasure as Bucky jerked faster, tighter.

"God, you feel so good in my hand, so big and smooth."

Steve moaned, fingers tightening on Bucky's hips as he once again tried to grind up, but their positioning stopped it, not allowing Steve to take control.

"Feels good." Steve whispered, yet there was strain in his voice and Bucky couldn't help the small unsure kick in his gut. Did it feel good? Really? Or was he just saying that? Bucky’s brain was becoming a minefield.

"Yeah? You sure?" he found himself asking, desperate for some form of praise or surety that it was something Steve wanted, was comfortable with.

Steve finally opened his eyes at the clear question in Bucky's voice, and before Bucky could ask why his face flashed in hesitancy, Steve leant forward into a punishing kiss, Bucky panting for more than one thing by the end of it.

"God, I can't wait to make you come, lick you clean. Are you gonna get messy for me, Stevie?"

Steve's entire body went rigid, Bucky pulling back, hand halting it's paced motion of tugging, unsure what the reaction meant. Had he pinched him? Oh god, he's somehow hurt Captain America's junk.

"Err, Buck -"

The high pitched squeal of a phone interrupted them, and Bucky glanced over to the tabletop as Steve’s phone vibrated and danced across the surface. Bucky’s hand remained unmoving and although Steve was still painfully hard, he could tell his mind was now on the call.

“It’s Fury’s tone, I… shit, I need to get this.” Bucky slid off Steve’s lap, trying not to feel the sharp pang of rejection. It was fine, these things happened, it was a work call, and Steve wasn’t just an auditor for the tax department. He was a superhero. It would be important.

“S’okay,” Bucky managed as Steve held his eyes for the longest moment, an array of thoughts fled through the crisp blueness and Bucky had never wanted to read minds as much as he did in that exact moment. What the hell was going through Steve’s head?

“Yeah - I skipped debrief last night. Fury won’t be happy”

Then he was up, phone in hand, yanking the sweats back up over his butt and Bucky, sad to lose the gorgeous view of Steve half undressed, had other things running rampant in his head as Steve answered.

Bucky couldn’t make out Fury’s words, but the yelling was apparent even across the room from where he sat. Steve paced around a little bit, interjecting half apologies and a promise to be right in and as he floundered, Bucky observed him closely. He looked flushed, due to the activities, he hoped, and a little on edge, and Bucky was trying to decipher if that was due to the call or something else. Like maybe the fact that Bucky had pushed him, touched him, tried to take control.

“I have to go,” Steve said and Bucky shook his head, startled that he'd finished up the call and he’d not noticed.

“Oh, okay… did you want to…” he waved towards Steve’s still prominent tenting issue, and didn’t miss the small wince Steve gave. Suddenly Bucky felt cold. It started in his stomach and slowly spread through his system.

“No time, I’m sorry…” Steve sped out the room and before Bucky knew what was happening, as he sat stunned on his couch from Steve’s blatant ‘no’ to his proposition, Steve was back, dressed in his stained uniform, smelling like sweat and smoke.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

A soft lingering kiss to the base of his neck was given over the top of the sofa, and before he could speak, Steve was gone with a snick of the front door, leaving Bucky on the couch, buzzing from the last thirty seconds or so, and trying not to react in any other way than a composed adult would. The juxtaposition of Steve fleeing against the tender press of his lips shaking him to the core.

“What the actual fuck?” he breathed into the room, “honestly - the fuck was that?”

Laying heavily back against the cushions, still warm from Steve’s body, Bucky went over what had just happened. Waking up to a soft Steve cooking breakfast, his ass sore from the pounding of a lifetime was a world apart from the jumpy man who barrelled out of his door, still hard and apologetic.

Surely Steve would have had time for Bucky to reciprocate, to give him something in return after the evening before?

But he wasn’t afforded the opportunity to even try - and he had no idea what to make of it.

He’d yelled at Tony a total of three times in the space of ten minutes, and generally Tony would let Bucky have his dummy spit then go about his business. But not today. 

Of all times he could have dug his heels in about Bucky's bad attitude, it was today. And Bucky didn't want a bar of it.

“Alright, I think you need a time out.”

“Fuck off, Tony.” Bucky snarled back, uncaring on how unprofessional he came across.

“Now!” Tony yelled, and somehow instinctually, Bucky all but stood to attention, without the salute thankfully. Tony's voice, surprisingly commanding when he needed it, and Bucky hadn’t realised how ingrained a barked order could hit him.

Before his frazzled brain broke out a further impossibly rude tirade at the billionaire, Bucky took one second to take stock on what affronts he'd snapped so far, realising he’d been less than complimentary. Bucky had walked into the lab, a black cloud of discontent swirling, full of hurt, puzzlement and annoyance, then proceeded to take out every little thing that went wrong on Tony. Who generally by all accounts had thick skin, but Bucky had been riding him from the moment he stalked in, slamming his messenger bag across the room and throwing himself into data reports.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he exhaled deeply and took in another long suck of air.

“Shit, Tony - I’m…” he trailed off and gestured to the air and looked heavenward, “I’m just… not really here today.”

The snort from Tony, made Bucky wince, “I figured that out when you threw the spanner and it missed Dum-E by an inch and you didn’t apologise when he squeaked at you.”

“What? Oh, Dum-E, buddy, I didn’t mean it.” It was telling that he felt worse about almost hurting a robot, more than being a certifiable dick to Tony all day without a care.

The small robot rolled over and placed its metal claw out to pat Bucky’s shin awkwardly, who couldn't help but be charmed and let out another long breath of toxic energy.

“Want to talk about it?” Tony asked as he smashed a hammer into a device that looked way too frail to take the beating. Maybe Bucky wasn’t the only one on edge.

“No offense, but that’s a firm no.” Bucky replied and started to read through the latest download from the test app.

“You and Grumpy Cap are made for each other.” Tony mumbled.

“Why’s that?” Bucky asked and winced at the sharpness in his question.

“Nothing at all, he’s a jackass when angry. The two of you make a perfect pair today.”

Bucky mulled on Tony's words for a moment, was he suggesting Steve had also been in a bad mood? Why would he be? He’d been the one who'd left Bucky with barely a goodbye, hard on the couch, trying not to question everything he'd said to make Steve flee like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.

“Want a drink?” Bucky said instead as he pulled out the emergency whiskey from his bottom drawer, impressed as he’d never seen Tony move so fast in his life, even _with_ an Ironman suit on.

Two glasses were procured from somewhere, and judging by the weight they would have cost exponentially more than the bottle of whiskey in the first place. Soon they were sitting across from each other, feet up on the desk between them, leaning back and chatting as if the afternoon had been pleasant and not a bramble full of thistles.

“I still can’t believe she said yes.”

“Either can I. Pepper is a woman without comparison, but has terrible taste in men…” Bucky teased, throwing back another finger of whiskey before motioning towards the bottle. He’d needed this, a time out.

“You know she single handedly chose you and your project, so I agree - terrible choices have been made by her where men are involved.”

Tony chucked the bottle to Bucky and grinned.

“I’m going to say this once and once only,” Bucky held up his drink, Tony looked back, eyebrow and glass also raised, “it has only been awful fifty two, point six percent of the time working closely with you.”

Tony tilted his head, face breaking out into a wide grin, “cheers, Bed Buck and Beyond, most people are at about eighty percent. I’m taking this as an endorsement and would like it written on the sleeve of my memoirs. So I'll need you to write it down and sign it please as an official document, I'll call Pepper to draft something.”

Bucky snorted, ignoring Tony as he kept demanding him to put it in writing, eventually holding his hand up to stop Tony’s rant of relentless words and grabbed out his phone. It had been steadily buzzing for about half an hour and he may or may not have been purposely ignoring it. Finally opening the messages, he couldn’t help grin.

**Darcy:** Tonights the night son

**Darcy:** Im going to tear shreds off this guy

**Darcy:** Ask him hard questions about being hard

**Steve:** Hey Buck, Natasha wants us to do dinner tonight, are you free?

**Darcy:** Make him squirm

**Darcy:** Make him want you so much he fucks you over the table

**Steve:** Bucky?

**Darcy:** Did I take it too far - maybe the cloakroom instead

Bucky simultaneously snorted in laughter and also face palmed himself, he wasn’t certain he’d get through the night unscathed. Not if he had to contend with Steve, Natasha _and_ Darcy, it was a disaster in the making. At least his bad mood had lifted, surprisingly Tony helping with his unspoken predicament, the inane conversation and grand ideas on how to make the world safer, quite the distraction. And it made Bucky start to think he’d overreacted earlier, it couldn’t have been as bad as he’d imagined? Steve was a hero and couldn’t just drop everything so Bucky could make him feel good. That would be ludicrous.

**Sent:** No fucking over the table tonight

**Sent:** Sounds great, I’m at the tower want me to come to you

When Bucky looked back up it was to see that Tony's attention was already snaffled by a piece of machinery, and he was muttering about a capacitor for some engine while digging through a box of parts; Bucky’s phone buzzed again.

**Darcy:** I’m at home, nowhere near the tower. Were going to this new Japanese place I’ve wanted to go to for months - Nat is brilliant and can get last minute reservations like the queen she is

Frowning at the message, Bucky read over it twice then realised what had happened just as his phone vibrated again, “Oh crap…”

**Steve:** I’m not making a promise I can’t keep Buck, it entirely depends on what pants you wear.

Bucky couldn’t help the warm flush of anticipation at the thought of Steve being so out of control because of his tight jeans, that he would rip them from his body and take him over the table without question. Coughing to hide his burgeoning arousal, Bucky was pleased at the flirty tone of Steve's message, it managed to assuage some of the worry he'd been holding onto.

He glanced at the time, seeing he had a few hours up his sleeve, and threw himself back into work, hoping the evening would fare better than the morning had. 

  
  


The restaurant, in Bucky’s opinion, was one of the best he’d ever dined in. The ambiance and service screamed casual yet classy cocktail bar, rather than a stuffy formal eatery, and boasted the largest array of Japanese cuisine he'd ever seen. Bucky was in heaven, he adored good food, and the company wasn't too shabby either.

Bucky had been shown to a cosy table in the back, away from prying eyes and knew Natasha had organised it with privacy in mind. Not that her and Steve were instantly recognisable, but they _were_ known. The others already seated and Steve stood up with a genuine grin when he saw Bucky, kissing him on the cheek easily and Bucky knew the returning grin on his face was goofy and fond. 

Ignoring Darcy's smirk, Bucky slid into his seat, Steve immediately crowding up next to him and he couldn’t help the deep thrill at having Steve pressed tightly against him in public, out and about with no care. But it was when Steve rested his large arm up and over the back of Bucky’s chair due to the restriction of space, fingers brushing his shoulder in small strokes, that he really felt possessed and treasured. The morning issue, apparently not an issue at all. Well not in public at any rate.

He was included immediately into the ongoing conversation and as they interacted and laid down the tone for the evening, Bucky had to pinch himself, because it felt like a real date, more so than anything they’d done so far. And over half of the people in attendance knew they were fake dating, he wasn't sure about Natasha, so conceivably one hundred percent knew. It was therefore one of the most bizarre evenings Bucky had ever experienced. Pretending for no reason, but pretending for an array of reasons.

“So, Rogers,” Darcy began and Bucky tried to kick her under the table, but misjudged where the table leg was, ending up shaking the whole structure.

“Sorry,” he murmured to everyone, watching as Darcy’s eyes lit up realising he couldn’t attack her in secret, _oh god,_ she was going to be unbearable. 

Steve looked a little uncomfortable at being the centre of Darcy’s attention, but plastered on a smile, or it could have been a grimace as he said, “yes?”

“What’s your intention with my boy here?”

The table shook again, _damn it_ , the stupid leg was still in the way. He tried to give Darcy a look, but her eyes didn’t leave Steve, who shifted next to him, moving in his seat.

“Oh... uh. We’re just seeing where it goes, getting to know each other.” He finally replied and Bucky swung a quick look at him, noticing the flush high on his face.

“So, it’s casual then, bro's fooling around? That’s cool.”

“No!” Steve said a little too quickly and too loud, making Bucky jump in his seat. Steve’s hand grasped his thigh under the table to reassure him, but seconds later removed it to rub the back of his neck, and Bucky was torn between trying to work out why Steve was jumpy, and also wanting to smack Darcy. But then Steve looked directly at him, catching his eye.

“Err, unless you’re thinking casual?”

Bucky couldn’t have stopped the shake of his head even if he desired to, it was automatic. There was nothing casual about what he wanted to do to Steve… _with_ Steve. Everything that evening was already worse than he’d initially thought. Damn meddling best friend.

“Darcy,” he started through gritted teeth, paired with a smile that would freeze water, “I’ve told you, a few times now, that we’re taking it slow.”

The shit-eating grin she gave him set his teeth on edge, why did he agree to this? She knew him too well. “Really? Well then, you’d best scoot apart a little more, because the way your leaning into Steve is decidedly -”

“Darcy!” Bucky exploded, and the laugh she gave made him angrier. Consider buttons pushed. “Enough about us, what about you two lovebirds? How’s paradise?”

Natasha looked ecstatic at the unfolding conversation and Bucky should have known better than to even attempt to rattle them.

“Not slow at all, Nat is coming for family dinner next week.”

“What?” Bucky exclaimed, looking between the two of them, “it took me years to get that invite. That’s not fair.”

“Bucky we were twelve when we met, you were _always_ at my house anyway and got plenty of dinners.”

“Not official ones, not until we went to collage, plus that’s not the point, your mom's hassle-back potatoes are life.”

“Oh my god,” Natasha breathed into the space, stopping Bucky immediately from gushing about the banana caramel tarts Darcy's mom also makes. “You two are either adorable or frighteningly too entwined.”

“I think it’s great,” Steve interrupted Bucky’s aborted protest with a small smile.

“What? That Bucky is an A-grade disaster of a human, who looks for love in all the wrong places?” Darcy teased.

“Err, what?” Steve stammered, looking Bucky’s way and Bucky hung his head, he was done. She was no longer his best friend. He’d now have to push her to the fringe of society with a sharp stick for the trouble she was causing.

“Until now, that is. He’s found a keeper in you Steve. He’ll never let you go.”

“Darcy,” Bucky warned for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. He was exhausted, maybe he should let her go, let her say everything she wanted - it couldn’t get any worse. He realised a second later, after their late night confessions, it could get extremely disastrous.

Steve meanwhile looked indulgently between the two of them, so Bucky put on a ‘butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth’ expression all while working out how to kill Darcy with a dessert spoon. Easily he figured, if he could untangle his leg from... Steve’s? He glanced at Natasha, who stared cooly back at him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Hmm, maybe not so easily then.

“Honestly, I think it’s great you’ve been friends forever, that somebody close to you watched you grow up, knows everything about you. The friendship you have is genuine and wonderful.” Steve spoke with a small smile.

“She’s a pain in the…” he trailed off at the faraway look in Steve’s eyes and felt like a heel. “Yeah okay, it’s alright - sometimes. Generally once every three months I appreciate her.”

“Go on, Barnes, tell me more,” Darcy cajoled.

Bucky scowled her way and grabbed Steve’s hand, entwining their fingers, having only just realised the soft look on his face was due to the fact he didn’t have any childhood friends. _Hell_ , he hardly had any friends as it was. And that right there was why Bucky would go through all of the stupidity of this pretend fiasco, he wanted to be Steve’s friend, be there for him, share things with him, create a strong bond. Okay he wanted so much more than pure friendship, but you could be in love with a friend right? Of course you could be. His own parents were the best of friends after all. Though that was hardly the same, they were married for starters.

Darcy and he came to a truce soon after and the conversation flowed easily for the rest of the evening. The food tasted exceptional, yet Bucky’s favourite parts of the night were when Steve leaned into him, sharing bites from his fork, kissing the side of his head absently at intervals between dishes, and the small touch of their legs, pressing with intent.

Bucky was slowly losing his mind at the rightness, the ease at how it all came together, and being there with Darcy and Natasha, his friend _and_ Steve’s was almost too much for his poor heart. Nothing felt as intimate and true as sitting around a table, laughing and joking with close friends, making plans for the future, yet being in the moment.

It was so genuine, his chest ached.

Bucky had been dancing around the fragility of their fake-dating for weeks and now actual feelings were involved on his end, paired with the muddied waters of sleeping together as… friends, as a way to let off steam, made him wonder - what was Steve getting from it?

Unhealthily, Bucky knew he was getting _Steve_ out of it, having felt a connection, a deep seated pull in his gut from the first moment they met. 

But as his past disastrous relationships had proven, Bucky _always_ fell hard, quick and recklessly, and it was a habit he had to break. Because if Steve and he were compatible for more than… whatever was happening, then he needed a clear mind, a clean slate and although Bucky felt okay with how Steve was acting around him at dinner, there was that moment this morning which had left his blood cold, and allowed uncertainty to creep in.

He wasn't trying to be cynical or defeatist, Steve clearly found him attractive, wanted Bucky on a physical level and they got along, very well - well enough that Bucky continually drowned in his want and need for Steve. But, Steve was either playing it coy or had no idea he’d bewitched Bucky so thoroughly. Even a man out of time had to see what they shared was not the normal run of the mill pretend relationship.

Bucky stopped mid-sip of his saké.

 _Shit,_ he’d not taken that into consideration, not at all. Steve _was_ a man out of time, he’d all but confirmed he’d not been successful in dating since he’d been unfrozen. Sex was not dating and it was obvious he’d partaken in that, but he probably had no idea what dating in the new century looked like. Steve wasn’t a simple man by any reach, but he _was_ from a simpler time and asking a friend or a bare acquaintance to help him out, to pretend to do something would have seemed like a simple ask. Maybe, and by maybe, Bucky was betting definitely, Steve had probably not even imagined any consequences nor the added complexities that came with dating in the future. Bucky felt like a fool, not considering that Steve could be just as confused and testing the waters as Bucky, but from a completely different angle. Just because Bucky had fallen into the treacherous prickly underbrush known as love, didn’t mean Steve had.

It was sobering. The two of them playing a game, a game Bucky had forgotten he was on the field for and one Steve conceivably didn't realise he was playing. 

The whole concept could drive a man mad.

Darcy somehow managed to kick his foot without shuddering the table, and he quickly jerked out of his revere. Jesus, he was having a crisis in the middle of dinner. He needed a stern talking to his inner timing.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Steve whispered into his ear, worry clear from the tone of his voice, before he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s temple.

 _Shit_ , no he wasn’t, not when Steve was so attentive, so obviously his boyfriend in front of Natasha and Darcy, the latter who was giving him ‘The Look’. A look that meant she knew exactly where his thoughts had been the last few minutes. Why did he agree to dinner? He could have just had Steve come over for sweaty sex all night instead. That was much more preferable than having a breakdown about his feelings in the middle of dinner.

“Peachy.” He replied in his usual, ‘I’m nothing of the sort’ response, and felt Steve stiffen up, before his hand squeezed the back of Bucky’s neck in comfort. When did Steve get to know him well enough to understand when Bucky was lying, or uncomfortable? Judging by Darcy’s soft smile, she saw it and was going to be even more insufferable next time they saw each other, which Bucky was planning for about thirty years in the future.

They left in a gaggle of goodbyes and hugs along with a firm handshake from Natasha, who relented at the last second, pulling Bucky in and off balance for the quickest and tightest hug known to man. It was as terrifying as he thought it would be, checking for a knife in his ribs surreptitiously afterwards. He was blade-free.

Darcy gave him another patented look as the two of them walked off hand-in-hand and Steve by extension pulled him in tight, arm sliding around his shoulders. Holding him close.

“Want to come back to the Tower?” 

Bucky glanced at Steve, hearing the slight breathlessness in his voice, as if expecting Bucky to decline. He was never going to be strong enough to say no, and Steve thankfully hadn’t quite worked that out yet.

“If that’s what you want,” he replied breezily, trying not to sound over eager, he felt he’d failed spectacularly, but Steve just gave him a shy smile that tugged at every heart string he possessed.

“I’d like nothing more,” he replied with a smirk and a soft chaste kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth, somehow more intimate than leaving one on his lips.

As they walked back to Steve's SUV, his phone chirped, and at Steve’s raised brow, shrugged his shoulders.

“Darcy,” he said simply and Steve nodded knowingly.

**Darcy:** You have no worries

**Sent:** about what?

**Darcy:** That boy is gone on you, about as much as you are on him

**Sent:** not even possible I can't physically or mentally be any goner

**Darcy:** you’re a dope

Bucky snorted and caught Steve watching him closely. “Sorry, don't mean to be rude, she’s just being annoying.”

“Not rude at all, I love watching you interact with her, it’s different…” Steve paused, “I mean different in a good way. You’re so much more relaxed with a dash of nasty. To be honest - it kind of does it for me.”

Bucky stifled a laugh, “right, so me being an asshole to my friend is a turn on?”

Steve laughed and shook his head.

**Darcy:** Tell him!!!!!!!!

Bucky huffed in annoyance, Darcy was pushy, even over text. And when he saw Steve look over to his phone, he tilted the screen, hoping Steve didn’t notice. Bucky did not need him reading Darcy’s aborted attempts at forcing Bucky's hand to blurt something he wasn’t ready to tackle yet.

“Is it hard?”

“Not until we get back to yours,” Bucky quipped.

**Sent:** Tell him what exactly? that I want a cat?

“Your jokes are terrible, you know that? I meant lying to Darcy, about this, us. You’re so close, it must be hard.” Steve looked at him as they reached the SUV, orange lights flashing across their faces as he unlocked it and Bucky slid in.

“Oh, uh - she knows it’s pretend.” He said, only half in the conversation with Steve as he was texting at the same time.

**Darcy:** unbelievable

**Sent:** I know I am, right - youre lucky to have me

**Darcy:** *insert eye roll emoji here that rolls its eyes so hard your phone shook*

**Darcy** : douche

It took a full minute for Bucky to realise the car was still stationary, not going anywhere, nor had Steve even started it. He glanced up from his phone to see Steve with his hands on the wheel, gripping it a little tight if the squeak of the leather was any indication, but it was the look on his face that flummoxed Bucky. The dash lights were muted, but from what Bucky could make out, he appeared to have a mixture of disappointment and loss shining through, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what about his words would have elicited such a reaction.

“Oh.” Is all Steve finally said and started the engine.

It took all of two seconds to think back and realise how flippant he’d sounded. Steve obviously didn’t want anyone to know, and he’d just blurted out that he’d told someone their secret. He really _wasn't_ thinking things through. But he couldn't exactly tell Steve the reason he'd confided in Darcy, not unless outing himself was part of the plan - it wasn't.

“Sorry, should I not have?” Bucky asked, heart in his mouth. Steve's reaction out of character for the usually in control and stoic man, making it feel like a bigger deal.

“No, I guess. I just… didn’t realise you'd told anyone.”

“Are you angry?” 

“God, no, not at all, you're free to say what you want. I thought. Or I was…” Steve didn’t finish, he left the half formed sentence hanging in the air, unspoken, and Bucky desperately wanted to hear the rest.

“What?” He questioned softly, nerves flowing through his stomach. Waiting. Anticipating.

“Nevermind. It’s fine,” Steve said, and Bucky felt himself deflate. Angry at himself, because what was he expecting, a confession of some sort? But the tone in Steve's voice caught him off guard, he didn't sound fine.

Before Steve could put the car in gear, Bucky reached over, grabbing his shoulder, making Steve turn his way. Something was going on and Bucky could only think of one way to distract themselves.

The intended kiss was not the one they ended up sharing. Bucky practically climbed over the console to get as close as he could as Steve’s tongue pressed wet and deep into his mouth. The way Steve kissed Bucky was full of intent, and yes it was controlled, but only to point, and when Bucky became a wriggling moaning mess in his arms, chasing after Steve’s lips when he begun to tease - Steve would lose control and devour him until they were both so keyed up there was nowhere else for it to go.

Panting, they released each other, Steve’s SUV suddenly full of pheromones and dirty promises. And as Steve finally pulled away from the curb, Bucky slid his hand across the space to grip Steve’s muscular thigh, just as he’d wanted to on the way to the cabin. Steve’s fingers tangled with his a second later, before pulling up to kiss the back of his hand, and suddenly Bucky’s dick wasn’t the only interested party, his heart had decided to flutter in right alongside of it.

They crashed through the door to Steve’s apartment much to the distress of JARVIS who continually asked them to be careful and not be so reckless. But Bucky was feeling reckless alright - thinking about nothing more than getting his mouth wrapped around Steve, and this time he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Bed,” Bucky rasped as Steve’s lips and teeth wreaked havoc with his neck, hands cupping his ass, kneading it in a way that drove Bucky to distraction. He didn't even care about not getting a proper tour.

“At your service,” Steve declared then lifted him as if he weighed no more than a feather, _Christ_ it got to Bucky, the manhandling, the sheer strength. He was weak for it.

He was expecting to be thrown onto the bed, but Steve laid him down gently, before climbing over him, boxing him in, hands cupping both sides of his face as his mouth took Bucky apart one kiss and lick at a time. All he could sense, smell, see, was Steve and it made his heart race. 

Feeling Steve’s interest grow against him, Bucky wriggled, until Steve allowed him free movement, and he spun them, using his metal arm and adored the shocked, yet infinitely hungry look Steve gave him at the display of strength.

“I keep forgetting that your arm could pin me.” Steve husked as Bucky climbed on top to grind down, bending to kiss the words right off Steve lips.

”You like that?” Bucky groaned with a promise in his voice.

The way Steve shivered underneath him gave him all the answers he needed. Steve was definitely on board for a little self-discovery.

And with that thought, Bucky ground down again, but also wriggled his hand between them to rub against Steve’s hardness, feeling it grow under his fingers, kissing Steve to distraction.

“Clothes off,” he demanded, climbing to the side, watching as Steve hesitated a second before shucking every stitch, leaving Bucky kneeling on the comforter still fully clothed, because - _jesus_ that was some kind of voodoo right there. Steve was stunning, all golden skin on display, muscles upon muscles caught his gaze, the thick corded thighs dipped in at the hips and his taut stomach had a mouthwatering dusting of hair trailing up to a chest so damn broad, Bucky felt like weeping. But it was his dick, jutting out proudly, hard, thick and long that caught his attention and the way his breathing quickened should have been concerning. But he was more concerned at letting out a whimper, giving the appearance of a swooning maiden. It would be accurate at least.

“Stevie…” he whispered reverently and watched, entranced as Steve ducked his head, then motioned for Bucky to get undressed too. He wasn’t sure if he could, he was struck dumb.

But after a few aborted movements of removing his shirt, that ended up with his head getting stuck, why he insisted on buttoning up that top button he didn’t know, he finally fell on Steve naked and wanting. Very much wanting.

He immediately deflected Steve’s hands that reached for him and instead gripped Steve’s dick again, stroking with purpose, before slithering down his body.

“God damn Steve I’ve been dying to get my mouth on you for months.”

“Months...?” Steve echoed, surprise in his voice and Bucky felt a lance of embarrassment at his desperate words and tone, but then he was face to face with the most gorgeous dick he’d ever laid eyes on. All other worries fled.

The first lick was a religious experience, Bucky felt his insides curl up on itself, the thumping in his heart erratic and he couldn’t help groan as he took the head into his mouth, teasing, sucking, exploring with his tongue.

Steve meanwhile held himself stiff, hands hovering as if they didn’t know where to rest and Bucky didn’t care where they landed, he finally had his mouth wrapped around Steve and knew immediately he could stay there and suck him all day.

Eventually Steve's head fell back on the cushion and Bucky looked up through thick lashes to see him, fist balled up against his mouth, but it didn't look complementary and it suddenly hit him, maybe, just maybe Steve wasn’t as on board as he’d imagined and felt a chill seize his lungs.

Immediately he let go and leant back from Steve’s body and watched as his fist fell slowly back to the bed, eyes open and watching Bucky with trepidation.

"Steve, what's wrong?"

“I… I’m sorry, I just dont… I can’t… it’s not…”

Bucky felt the blood drain from his face, lightheaded and aghast at Steve's aborted words. Steve was always in control, had a tight rein on his emotions and hearing him at a loss, so unsure was like a swift kick to the gut, especially as it happened when Bucky had been sucking him. “What are you trying to say?”

“Oh, god, this is _not_ the time...” Steve trailed off, fist hitting the bed in frustration and Bucky leant back further, ensuring he wasn’t touching him at all. Was Steve talking to himself or to Bucky? And what the hell did that mean anyway - not the time? The chill had now reached his extremities, fingers going numb.

“I... I thought you wanted this… from me." Bucky's brain was scrambling, endorphins lumped in with a sharp stab of fear and uncertainty, he was partially hard, tongue thick in his mouth from tasting Steve. Steve who clearly was _not_ into it. Into… Bucky.

Steve tried to speak as Bucky jumped up like he'd been shocked with too much electricity, but the words clearly stuck in his throat and all that escaped was a half growl. Bucky couldn't hear, ears blocked from the pitch in his brain, he had to get out of there and counting his breaths to three was _not_ helping. He knew he should have listened to his instincts, that’s why he had them in the first place, to avoid situations like this. 

The attention Steve had previously lavished on his body felt miles away in the face of what had just transpired on sheets with a thread count so high Pepper must have chosen them. And was that a thought to have when freaking out? Probably.

He really needed air and just _knew_ windows so high up wouldn’t open, stupid safety codes.

Escaping the Tower was all he required. Yes. That's what he needed. And some clarity, he'd take a dose of that too.

Jumping up, he grabbed his jeans and threw them on as Steve lunged across the bed to stop him, grab him, and Bucky neatly side-stepped and pinned him with a gaze.

Steve halted all movement.

“You know what, Steve.” He began as he buttoned up his jeans almost violently, realising his fingers were shaking, anger at himself and his lack of foresight manifesting into a blur of words that fell from his mouth. “If you didn’t want me to touch you. God, Stevie you should have said something! Why would you let me make you feel like I’m…” He paused, heart erratic, “I thought we were in this together? Look, I think I’d best go."

"Bucky." His name sharp and commanding on Steve's tongue and Bucky hated the fact his eyes immediately fell to Steve, ready to comply, it wasn't fair. He had too much of a hold on Bucky already. His heart fluttered in his chest like a butterfly trying to escape a trap, he was certain Steve could hear it.

"Please, hear me out. This is _not_ what you're thinking. At all." Steve’s voice was steady, calming, a world away from the man who’d just appeared to have a panic attack at Bucky’s touch. 

Confused with every facet of his body, full of adrenaline trying to escape, Bucky huffed out a breath, inhaling and counting to three before the shaky exhale left his body. His technique working this time. He could do this. Hear Steve out - couldn't he? Yes. 

Watching Steve gather his thoughts was an interesting endeavour, Bucky's own thoughts too fragmented to be useful. The chill hadn't left his body yet, and he saw the tremor in his hands as he held his shirt aloft, waiting. He couldn't believe he'd forced himself on Steve, the warning signs had been there, the conversation in the cabin, the way he shied from Bucky's touch on more than one occasion, it all added up. But to what and why had he not taken notice? Was he too fuck-drunk?

But, Steve still touched him, had pounded him steadily into the mattress the night before, for hours. Whispering filthy words in his ear, endearments sliding off his tongue easily, leaving Bucky a spent shell who couldn’t even stand. He didn’t _understand_ what was happening. It was like Steve was suddenly a different person and even though his flight instinct had kicked in, he wanted to hear, no, he needed to hear what Steve had to say. No matter what the outcome could be. 

It _had_ to be about the reciprocating touch, and Bucky stupidly had thought Steve was used to his hands on him. He should have checked first - he was terrible at reading nuances, always had been. But honestly, after everything Steve had said and done over the last few months, Bucky had the right to feel like his inner ear was faulty and everything tilted off balance, ready to collapse at a seconds’ notice.

"I can hear you thinking from here," Steve said quietly, breaking the spell in the room, stopping Bucky's spinning thoughts which also meant his heart started to hammer again at his gross misjudgment.

"Believe me, it's truly not what you think," Steve gave him a wry smile before running a hand through his hair. He should have looked ridiculous, spread over the bed, naked, erection flagging, but he didn’t. He looked perfect and Bucky was officially not thinking straight. To be fair, he never had.

"Can we talk somewhere else?" Bucky strangled out and Steve's gaze sharpened, clearly seeing how panicked and upset Bucky was.

"Yeah, of course, anything. Just don't go. Okay?"

Steve's eyes held Bucky's even though he wanted to avert them, before running out of the Tower to hide under a blanket for the next month, year. Instead of voicing anything, he nodded his head.

Bucky turned on his heel, slipping his shirt back on and headed straight to the lounge room, steps unsteady, stomach lurching at how the evening had soured so quickly, and with head in hands, sat stiffly on the edge of Steve’s one-seater sofa and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.

Steve ran out, still hopping into a pair of sweats, sans shirt and Bucky wanted to protest. How could they have a conversation when his attention would be caught constantly on bare skin? Especially bare _chest_ skin. _Steve’s_ chest skin.

“I want to start by saying, it’s not you - it’s me.”

The dry bubble of laughter that left Bucky’s throat, tight and void of humor, “come on, seriously?”

“What?” The confused look shouldn’t have made any difference, but it did. 

Bucky was so used to dealing with the typical Brock's in relationships, the men who inflicted anguish on purpose, wanting to hurt or manipulate. And for one moment he'd forgotten he was dealing with an actual Steve Rogers. One of the few and far between good guys. Well he hoped.

“You're too much sometimes, because you _are_ serious.” At Steve’s blank but worried look, he sighed, “look, all I'm saying is that in the future when having these conversations with someone you’re sleeping with. Don’t start it with - it’s not you, it’s me.”

Steve looked even more confused, “but, it _is_ me…”

“Jesus help me. Do you have any alcohol?”

Steve, still frowning, disappeared for a moment, allowing Bucky to calm his heart rate. He still wanted to go, to flee and lick his wounds and forget about what had unfolded, get his head back into some semblance of order, but also he was desperate to stay. To hear Steve out, find out what he'd done wrong, see if it could be rectified. But what if it couldn't? What if this was goodbye, the end to their… tryst?

Steve came back with a finger of whiskey for both of them, jerking Bucky from musing on how his heart would not be recovering from this, ever.

Shutting his eyes, he took a shaky sip, letting the burn flow down his throat, it soothed - calmed his nerves.

The scraping of the coffee table on the floor made Bucky's eyes fly open. Steve, instead of sitting in the chair adjacent to Bucky, had pulled the heavy metal table across the carpet so he could sit right in front of him. Knees a breath apart, his chest… right there. _Jesus,_ he wouldn't hear a thing, not with all that skin -

"- the serum…" Steve started, and stopped just as quickly, taking a drink of whiskey, Bucky knowing it did nothing for him, but was only a nervous gesture. It made Steve more human somehow, relatable and Bucky felt himself relax the slightest amount. "The serum gave me all of this strength, speed, health and a way to help win a war. God I survived a lifetime in ice all because of Erskines' discovery. But it also... broke something."

Bucky immediately wanted to reach out, to comfort, to exclaim that nothing about Steve was broken, except his nose at some point and Bucky adored the small imperfection. But he didn't reach out, wasn't sure if he should.

"You're not broken," he ended up saying, watching as Steve eyed him sadly, the disbelief shining out, hurting something deep in Bucky. God, he just wanted to wrap this huge man up in cotton wool. Then Steve closed his eyes, leaning back on the table, and suddenly Bucky was assaulted by the slight ambrosia of his scent.

"Yeah, Buck, that's the trouble. I am."

Sighing deeply, Steve looked down at his lap, before raising the glass and taking another small sip.

"Explain it to me then," Bucky whispered, the pleading in his voice barely registering, but Steve’s reaction meant he’d heard.

“It’s hard to talk about. I’ve never had to put it into words before. I mean, in my head sure, but you can say anything you like in the confines of your own mind and there are no repercussions, no one looking at you in disappointment… trying to flee from you, because you’re inept at - fostering relationships, no matter what they are.”

Bucky’s heart stalled on the word relationships, a word that encompassed so many types. He swallowed thickly.

“S’alright, I’m not one to judge.”

“Yeah I know.” Steve hissed out a breath, “I _do_ know that. Which makes this harder somehow. I should have said something before I let it get this far. Okay, what you were doing before, believe me, was phenomenal.”

Bucky stared impassively, trying not to react or say anything, specifically the words that ‘it sure didn’t seem like it’, that wanted to escape.

“But it’s something I haven’t been able to… okay, I don’t, I _can’t_ get the same _release_ as I could pre-serum.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, surprised any sound managed to escape, too busy taking note of where Steve enunciated words. 

“It doesn’t work for me the way it used to. God, I’m sorry, talking about this is - well, not my forte. The serum made a difference to the way I experience things and,” he paused to scratch the back of his neck, then looked to the roof. “Just spit it out Rogers… I’ve had many encounters with partners in the past, and nothing works, no matter what, they - we, were unable to make things…”

Taking pity on him, Bucky cut in, “come, Steve - are you trying to say that another person can’t make you orgasm? That you can’t at all?” 

Steve’s wide eyes met his, relief that Bucky understood warring with clear mortification and Bucky wanted to make everything better. But how? What Steve was sharing was huge, and also concerning. Had he not come since before he was serumed up? But then the cabin, the shower - he definitely did, Bucky was sure of it.

Nodding, Steve bit his lip in an unusual gesture of uncertainty, “I can… occasionally get there myself, but I have to be - let’s say the stars need to align and the axis of the earth has to hit a certain angle. The amount of stimulation it takes is, let’s be honest, is not worth it. But I need you to know, it still feels extraordinary, my senses are heightened to such a degree, but I just can't... get there.” 

Bucky took another sip of drink, voice and brain battling over what to say. But before he could string together something that didn’t come across as pity, Steve kept going.

“Honestly, I hate thinking about it, the pressure and if I pretend it doesn’t exist it’s easier, if you know what I mean. I take my pleasure in making my partners feel good, really good. But, others don’t seem to think that's enough.”

Hands down this was _not_ what he expected to hear from Steve, he'd been waiting for the let-down of the century, of his life. Not the fact that Steve was unsure and scared to tell Bucky the truth about a serum side effect. The confession clearly took its toll, as Steve fidgeted with the glass in his hands.

Reading between the lines of Steve’s admission, as Bucky wasn’t cruel enough to make him spell it out since it took a tremendous amount of courage to even say what he had so far, it appeared Steve really believed himself to be broken.

 _God_ , he wanted to throttle these nameless faceless people who’d allowed Steve to think he was less of a person after the serum, because he what? Couldn’t _release_ as he’d so eloquently put it. Making him question himself and his changed sexual appetite. Had Steve been trying to connect with people all this time, but because of how the serum adjusted his physiology they shied away at the smallest of differences? Bucky was livid, anger simmering under his skin, especially at the way Steve murmured his fulfilment was not worth it. Of course it was, it was goddamn paramount.

Steve’s hesitance to receive touch, the wide-eyed looks Bucky had received when he _had_ reached out started to make sense. If people had essentially allowed Steve to believe his pleasure was something unattainable with them, then no wonder he’d freaked out, he didn’t want to disappoint his partner, and in this case - that was Bucky. 

Steve wasn’t broken, he’d just not found someone with the patience to learn him, to figure it out, to spend time on Steve and what he needed.

Could Bucky be that person? He wanted to be, desperately. 

He grasped Steve’s hands that were wrapped around the cool glass, holding them prisoner and Steve looked up into his eyes, the blueness never ceasing to surprise Bucky, nor the depths to which they went.

“Good thing I’m not like those others then, hey?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed almost indecipherably, but Bucky saw it.

“No you most definitely are not.” Steve husked as he fell forward to capture Bucky’s lips in a soft quick kiss. He leant back, eyes depthless and Bucky, not used to being under such scrutiny, filled the space with words.

“You still should have _told_ me, you can trust me… I thought it was me, I thought I’d hurt you.” Bucky kept most of the exasperation out of his tone and watched as Steve shook his head emphatically as if it were the most ridiculous thing he’d heard, that Bucky could have caused any issues, and he wouldn’t lie. It was a nice piece of reassurance.

Bucky knew he was still holding back his own truth, but it was hardly the time to push a confession onto Steve, one huge enough to change everything. There had been enough upheaval for one night. _Chicken._

“But I do have one question?” Bucky asked in lieu of being brave.

Steve pulled his hands free to put his glass down then immediately captured Bucky’s again, cool from the drink, but so steady, so right. “Sure, sweetheart, anything.”

The endearment slithered into the cracks of Bucky’s battered heart, smoothing the lines out, making it pulse louder, fuller. “Does this mean effectively you can screw for hours and hours?" 

The shocked bark of laughter made Bucky grin, albeit with more intent behind it.

“I guess it does.” Steve answered glibly.

"Well then. That just about sounds like heaven to me.” 

“Does it now?” Steve finally grinned, eyes hooding in the delicious way that meant Bucky was going to be a very happy and a thoroughly sated mess within the next hour.

Bucky wanted to admit spending time with him, having Steve open up about his life was heaven, but he’d start small, he’d start over now he knew exactly what had been plaguing Steve, why he’d been backing off. He wanted to help, he wanted to try things, make Steve not feel like a failure and that he couldn’t please his partners, because he could. _Jesus_ he most definitely could. 

Wrapping his fingers firmly with Steve’s he stood up, Steve watching him rise, eyes wide and hopeful, it was a heady sensation being on the end of that unwavering gaze.

He tugged lightly on Steve’s hand and he stood immediately, close enough to share breath, “come on, let me show you.”

All of Bucky’s plans to take the lead slipped away as soon as they walked into Steve’s bedroom, almost as if Steve was the master of his domain, that this room was where he was in control, and to be fair. Bucky did not care one iota.

Steve slipped Bucky’s clothing from his body, slow, teasing, mouthing every exposed sliver of skin as it appeared, and by the time he pulled Bucky’s jeans down, he was already writhing on the spot, moaning into the room, unsure how his legs were managing to keep him standing straight. Steve’s tongue and lips had purpose, and although Bucky’s dick twitched in interest as his soft blonde hair tickled the base of it while he suckled at Bucky’s inner thigh, Steve ignored it for the moment. 

“Gorgeous, just everytime I see you I can’t believe I get this.” Steve murmured into his stomach as he made his journey back up, and Bucky’s heart stalled at the words, at the beautiful lilt as they escaped Steve’s mouth. He wanted to be gorgeous, for Steve, he _would_ be. He’d be anything Steve needed, anything he wanted.

“It’s yours,” Bucky whispered, unsure of saying it too loudly, but with Steve’s enhanced senses he knew he’d heard, especially as he felt the sharp inhale of air over his chest. He meant it too literally, but in the heat of the moment it could be written off as a passing fancy. Bucky knew better though and had to be careful, even though his body sang out for more. Then Steve was back in front of him, lips on Bucky’s, taking the kiss he’d been leading up to. All teeth and tongue with a hint of recklessness imbued.

Finally he leant back, Steve gazing at him a moment, eyes moving over Bucky’s face, until they held his steadily, and feeling emboldened by their talk, Bucky reached out to splay his palm against Steve’s abdomen, feeling the ripple of muscle underneath the skin.

Closing his eyes, Steve leaned into the touch, “Steve?”

“Yeah,” he breathed in response, eyes still closed, a serene look on his face. Clearly sharing the burden with Bucky had relaxed him, made him feel more at ease, comfortable. Bucky melted, he’d done that, he’d elicited that reaction from Steve.

“Tonight, you can do what you want with me, I’m all yours.” Steve’s eyes flew open at his words, pupils black and full of desire, “but tomorrow, tomorrow is for me, alright? Fair warning.”

Steve nodded dumbly, Bucky not even sure what he’d promised, but the seed of an idea had planted and he wanted to explore it. But tomorrow. Tonight was Steve’s night, and by extension, Bucky’s.

“Anything I want, hey?”

Bucky smiled, placing his entire evening of pleasure in the very capable hands of Steve. He couldn’t wait, goosebumps traversed over his skin, leaving small pockets of nerve endings crying out for attention.

Within seconds, as Steve never missed an opportunity to show off, he was picked up and placed in a hot shower with nary a squeak of protest (because he damn well loved Steve taking charge). Steve leant in with an assurance to wash everything he could conceivably reach, and whispered filthily he’d also clean some places that would take more time and effort. And while Bucky sucked in a quick breath at the thought, trying to brace himself for anything and everything Steve could spring on him, Steve opened the shower gel, slicking up his hands. Knowing smirk firmly in place. Bucky watched wide-eyed as Steve soaped him up, running his huge hands in a languid pace over him, slow and steady, every single inch of skin coveted and pressed upon until Bucky was a wanton, moaning mess. 

As Steve spun him and began to take particular interest in Bucky’s ass, his hands reached out blindly until he found the cool tiles of the wall, resting his forearms and elbows against it, needing the hard structure so he wouldn’t fall. And just as he gained the much required support, Steve’s foot kicked his legs further apart, and Steve’s thick fingers teased around his hole, immediately knowing Steve had hidden water based lubricant somewhere, because the glide was fluid and just the right side of maddening. One finger, followed soon by more slipped in and out, filling him, the pace relentless within seconds, not letting Bucky get used to it slowly, it was exquisite. Steve pumping over and over again, his breathing heavy over the fall of the water, one hand holding Bucky’s hip steady, the other, fucking into Bucky’s body. 

“You should see yourself, baby, wrecked, just on my fingers alone.”

 _Jesus_ , how was hearing Steve murmur those words, pulling him to the edge of orgasm already? Steve had a gift.

Sensing that Bucky was on the edge of coming already, clear by the sharp staccato gasps that came quicker and quicker, Steve’s fingers suddenly disappeared, and Bucky immediately was empty, the loss consuming. The scratch of a loofah scrubbing his lower back, up to his shoulders appeared. _Was he serious?_ Growling in loss only induced a low devilish chuckle from behind him and he hated Steve, but also loved him to exasperation. No one had ever played Bucky so succinctly before.

Maybe he’d been remiss in promising Steve full rein, he might suffer a heart attack from wanting too much.

Steve pushed his body up against Bucky’s, slippery, wet and hard, _so very hard_. A huge arm curled around his body and he looked down to see Steve’s hand sweeping long soapy strokes over his torso, lower and lower towards his dick, which jerked in response at having something so close, but still not touching.

“You’re a goddamn tease.” He whined, trying to squirm and force Steve’s hand lower, he was an immovable force though.

Steve unsurprisingly held fast, body trapping Bucky between a wall of muscle and the tiles, and before Bucky could plead his case, start to beg for something, any form of stimulation, Steve’s dick slotted between his ass cheeks. 

“Oh fuck…” Bucky ground out, eliciting another too dark and husky chuckle from behind him. “More… please… I need…”

Then Steve, clearly hearing Bucky’s silent prayers between each aborted word, started to pump his hips, glacially slow, but with purpose, the head of Steve’s dick catching ever so invitingly on his rim on every upstroke. 

“I recall a promise that tonight I could take what I wanted. No questions.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, yeah, he did promise that. He’d promise it every day for the rest of his life.

Humming in response Bucky tilted his hips and pushed his ass back into Steve on purpose just as he thrust up, the head of Steve’s dick sliding into his tightness an inch, the extra burn from the stretch making him quiver. His hands balled into fists at the fatness filling his entrance so beautifully. But Steve stopped before he could slide too deep, to give Bucky the sensation of being full, crammed tight. The feeling he craved more than air itself in that moment.

“Fuck…” Steve ground out, breath tickling Bucky’s ear, shiver wracking his body. “You couldn’t resist hey, baby? Alright then… you asked for this.”

Steve pulled out with a jerk, and the moan which tore from Bucky’s throat embarrassing in it’s neediness, but lost in the haze of water and steam when he was yanked around to face Steve. But before he could utter a protest or gain his footing, Steve had lifted him clear off his feet, slamming his back into the wall, and in one swift movement thrust deeply into Bucky.

He howled out, the acoustics of the bathroom making his voice echo around them, and once more the sheer physical strength of Steve as he held him aloft, sent shock waves through him. Bucky had enough presence of mind to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist for purchase, hooking his ankles behind his firm ass and wriggled, forcing Steve in further. It had never felt so damn good, so different, so close.

“Shit, condom, sorry, sorry,” Steve husked and tried to pull out, Bucky held tight, the texture of Steve’s skin inside him something he was no longer going to tolerate going without.

“S’fine, more than fine. God you feel so fucking good inside of me,” Bucky couldn’t believe his articulation, being split in half usually rendered him speechless, though his brain was slowly going ofline, feelilng floaty. “I had a test a month ago, and you’re a supersoldier - I think we’re good.”

Steve’s responding growl and sudden push made Bucky feel like he was about to crash through the wall. He was impossibly deep and Bucky curled his arms around Steve's neck, leveraging his body up and closer, water cascading over the two of them, hair matting against their skulls as Bucky captured Steve's lips in a kiss, soft and pleased, belying the filthy position of Steve buried in his body.

"A month ago hey? You hoping for this sweetheart?" Steve rasped on his lips, pulling back minutely to look his fill.

Bucky didn't respond, not needing to incriminate himself further. It was response enough by the darkening of Steve’s gaze, the hunger which shone through bright as day.

Steve hefted Bucky once, presumably to tighten his grip, and then, mouth once again attaching to Bucky's, he pulled out, thrusting back in to the hilt with a groan. Bucky gasped against Steve's tongue as his fingers dug into his ass possessively, before sliding almost all the way out, then slamming back in. 

The pace Steve started was smooth, in time, slow and just this side of not enough, not giving Bucky the rush he needed.

"Harder… oh god, Stevie… harder… please." Bucky hearing his words as a tangle of nonsensical babble, half pleading and wanting, hoping he wasn’t just yelling into the confines of his mind.

The bruising kisses Steve gave in conjunction with his guttural moans and controlled motions, made for the perfect moment, even if Bucky’s body cried out for more. And that's when Steve started his one driving purpose. 

To make Bucky scream.

The wall against Bucky's spine shook, or it could have been Bucky's keyed up body, he couldn't tell anymore, and as Steve began to pump into him, each thrust going impossibly further than the one before, he fell asunder.

There was nothing left in his world, other than Steve's length, pounding into him at such a pace and such a depth he couldn't think straight. Low gasps and moans left his throat in a cacophony of noise, swallowed immediately by Steve, who’d not relented, his mouth taking control, stealing the air directly from Bucky's lungs until he was so lightheaded he spaced out.

The slick movements, the strength and pure dominance Steve possessed made every nerve in Bucky's body sing out, cry out for release, to be controlled and taken by one man alone, the only man to have ever made Bucky feel so damn precious.

Steve Rogers was his everything.

He was vaguely aware after a while of a hand slipping between their bodies and then a rough palm gripped his dick, jerking messily, out of time, but it didn't matter, he was so ready, too close to coming.

"Oh, Christ… I'm gonna…" Bucky breathed into Steve's mouth, body shuddering uncontrollably as his orgasm hit hard, spilling between the tight space of their bodies, Steve not stopping his brutal pace nor giving him a moment to recover as he shook apart, cried out, maybe even actually cried, he didn’t know. 

An undefinable amount of time passed as Steve continued to take his pleasure, head thrown back, neck muscles strained as he ground into him hard and fast, Bucky shivering in overstimulation, but he loved it, loved it all. Bucky thrummed with the knowledge that Steve could conceivably keep going non-stop until one of them gave out - him. He wouldn’t care, he'd let Steve fuck him until he was a raw simpering parody of himself, and not regret a second.

Oh god.

Suddenly he was placed on his feet, legs giving way, but Steve held him upright by his sheer bulk alone, before dropping to his knees. Bucky could only look down through half lidded eyes as Steve held him against the wall, hands pushing his hips to steady, then started to noisily lap up the mess Bucky had made on his stomach. The water had taken care of most of it, but Steve was thorough in his duties before his mouth engulfed his sensitive dick, sucking hard, sucking him until he was stiff and full in his mouth, and there, up against the wall, legs made of jelly, gasps of mercy leaving his throat, Steve seized his very lifeforce. Fingers reached deep inside of him, plugging him as the wet heat surrounding his dick left Bucky striking Steve's shoulders with his fists, no malintent other than to display how out of control he’d made him. How Steve owned him, completely.

Steve looked up through his long blonde lashes, catching Bucky's wild gaze, forcing him to observe as he hollowed his cheeks. And with an incomprehensible twist of Steve’s fingers, a low hum and suction more intense than looking directly into a tornado, Bucky was coming again. Loudly.

Bucky was an untidy specimen of a human, unable to speak, walk or move, but Steve had him, held him, whispering words on how pleased he was, how Bucky was the only person he'd been with that took him so well. Bucky smiled sleepily, pleasure filling every cell in his fried body. He pleased Steve, _him -_ no one else.

A big fluffy red towel soon enveloped him and as if he were a small child, Steve ruffled his hair dry, Bucky laughing and ducking his head tiredly the whole time. The indulgent smile on Steve’s face when he escaped the red covering, making Bucky’s heart skip a beat. 

Then he was lifted once more in two strong arms and Steve navigated them to his massive bed, placing him under the coverlet seconds later. Steve slipping in beside him after turning the lights off.

By that point Bucky didn't even classify as a boneless mess, beyond even that, used in the most wonderful of ways, knowing the aches that plagued him wouldn’t leave his body for days. He loved the anticipation of feeling Steve in him for an indefinite length of time. But for all the twists and turns the evening had taken, Bucky was ultimately sated and safe in Steve’s arms.

Steve sharing his past, a perceived fault, something clearly emotional and hard to articulate, was a revelation for Bucky and the intensity Steve displayed during sex made it clear he was affected by it all. Would be for some time.

Steve sidled up behind Bucky, arms reaching out to hold him tight and he wriggled in closer, radiating in his post-orgasmic glow, feeling his lids grow weary and heavy. The kiss to the nape of his neck, familiar, leaving tingles throughout his body, he was claiming that spot as Steve’s, he’d not allow anyone else to place their lips there ever again.

“Thank you. Thanks for… well, for understanding.” Steve whispered, shaking Bucky from his dream-like state.

“Mmmm,” he mumbled distracted, exhausted, not really thinking straight. “Stevie, when you date someone for real, like, when you’re serious about them, you need to tell them the truth, okay?”

Steve went very quiet behind him, nuzzling his face between Bucky’s shoulderblades making him smile, he adored that Steve was becoming comfortable in taking the touch he wanted, yet willing to try and accept it in return.

He continued to float in a haze between dozing and awareness and as he fell over the precipice into sleep, not certain if he was dreaming or not, soft words fell against the small of his back, “that’s exactly why I’m telling you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Communication has *finally* commenced!!
> 
> FYI - chapter 9 is going to be a hell of a ride ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... err... hope you all have fun with this chapter ;)
> 
> I know I did!

Bucky lay in Steve’s massive bed, staring at the comfortably sleeping man, every single muscle in his body sore and so very sated from the previous evenings activities. He wriggled slightly under the mass of Steve, wondering how much his heavy leg actually weighed, because Bucky was certain he now possessed a dent on his thigh from it, and walking might prove problematic. Actually, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to walk at all due to, well, Steve’s avid attentiveness.

He shifted sneakily so as not to rouse Steve, and seconds later Bucky was free of the solid appendage, falling into a relaxed state, laying in the quietness of the slowly brightening room. As he basked in the serenity of early morning, Bucky tried to recall the hazy just out of reach dreams as they teased at his memory; vaguely recalling snatches of half words, of Steve telling him something, but no specifics, just a general rush of belonging and a feeling that things had shifted between them. Something big.

So instead, Bucky tried to work through what he _could_ remember, but instead of focussing on Steve’s story and admissions, his mind flittered to the way Steve expertly took him apart over the course of hours, the dopey and floaty mindset still hanging on even then. But it was the way Steve held him close, arms wrapped tightly around his wrecked body, hands running up and down his sides constantly, comforting, touching, grounding him back into himself after being so thoroughly pummeled, that stuck so vividly in his mind.

All of Steve’s infinite care, the way he made Bucky feel, the tenderness in each caress followed by snatches of fierce possessiveness had Bucky wanting to give something in return. Give Steve something he'd been craving, needing.

Steve inhaled an adorable snore as he shifted under the sheet, seeking Bucky’s warmth if the reaching hand was any indication. The hand collided with Bucky’s arm, and fingers large and capable loosely gripped his bicep, and Steve settled immediately. With a dopey pleased grin, Bucky came to the realisation he'd been spending too long gazing over at Steve, could honestly spend the rest of his life doing so. 

The two sleepless weeks seemed to have finally slammed into Steve like a freight train, and even with a super soldier metabolism, no one could escape the body's requirement for rest, something that probably rankled Steve. It was not a weakness, especially since he trusted Bucky enough to be completely off his guard around him, it instigated a protectiveness in his chest. He’d watch over Steve, make sure he looked after himself, make sure to give him what he needed. He would be proud to stand at Steve's side - always.

Swallowing tightly at the careening pathway his thoughts were taking, he looked back to the blonde head snuggled down into the plush pillow, and knew Steve’s exhaustion also encompassed the intense dalliances with Bucky and the emotional upheaval of sharing something so deeply personal. It must have taken a toll, the drain of unspoken sentiments, festering over the course of years, having no idea how Bucky would react, or receive the words that stuck in his throat, with little belief of his acceptance. Steve must have been terrified to lay himself so bare, but he had done it, and Bucky took strength from that, his own resolve slowly hardening.

Steve’s long eyelashes flickered as Bucky watched him fondly, and he wondered what dreams played out behind his closed eyelids. _God_ , he was gorgeous, and not just at the surface, but deep down to his soul, the part that made him Steve Rogers, a beacon of light filled with goodness, and like a moth to the flame Bucky was completely enamoured, unable to look away for a second. He’d been drawn in, uncertain if he’d ever be able to escape. Sighing, he carded his fingers lightly through Steve’s hair, loving the way he unconsciously leant into the touch, pleased beyond belief. 

Last night carried heavy and life altering revelations, and if anything, Bucky fell even more in love with the hero, the man who asked nothing for himself and the one person who held Bucky’s fragile heart in his hands - without even knowing it.

The only force that could unravel Bucky from Steve, would be Steve himself. 

He disentangled himself from the rest of Steve’s grip and with one last long look, headed for the kitchen. Bucky had big plans, but the first order of the day was coffee.

As he stood before the coffee grinder waiting for its cycle to complete, the beginnings of freshly ground beans infiltrated his tired senses, and, pleased he’d managed to work the appliance correctly, he turned his attention to the clearly Stark created coffee machine. It transported him back to being a child of seven, when a five year old Becca was gifted a dollhouse the size of a small car with lights that worked, lights that Bucky had broken in the first hour, not understanding the nuances of the toy. The coffee machine was mammoth and no doubt a feat of engineering and he had a feeling if he broke it, Tony would react the same way Becca had. Squealing at the top of his lungs and kicking Bucky’s shins hard.

“JARVIS?” he asked timidly, feeling infinitely silly talking to air, but technically it was no different to requesting help from his phone, except JARVIS was… well, JARVIS.

“Good morning, Sergeant Bucky. How may I assist? Do you require more lubrication?”

Bucky spluttered, coughing loudly, and mortified he gestured at the roof, not sure where JARVIS’s speakers were located, “excuse me?”

“Sir, mentioned that should I speak with you, to ensure you have enough lubricant. Was this not accurate?”

Bucky rested his face in his hands for a moment and laughed, he couldn’t help it. Tony was going to be a pain in his ass no matter where his life went. “You know what, order a 6 pack of the most expensive lubricant you can find and charge it to Tony’s credit card.”

“Certainly, Sergeant. Can I assist you further?”

For one second Bucky forgot why he’d called out to JARVIS in the first place, “oh, yes, I need help with this monstrosity of a machine, do you have an instruction manual I can look at?”

“I do, but if you give me your order, I will converse with the machine and have it prepare your beverage.”

Somewhat impressed, he put a mug under the spout, placed the grinds where JARVIS indicated and asked for a flat white. The machine gurgled and Bucky watched intently as different buttons lit up, trying to remember the order so he could mimic it. He knew JARVIS could assist, but it felt weird asking the roof when he was right there. His arms weren’t painted on.

“Thanks,” he called out, placing a second mug under the nozzle and pressed the same sequence he’d memorised, pleased when it gurgled and let out a hot stream of liquid gold.

“Pleasure,” was the response then nothing more.

There was no way he could ever get used to having AI at his fingertips. Which brought him up short. It was a possibility of course that he’d be there more often, using JARVIS, conversing on the regular. He _really_ needed to talk to Steve about where things stood between them… soon.

Sighing heavily, Bucky looked deeply into his coffee mug, maybe Steve was on to something with that, it was a great distraction. But not distraction enough though, Bucky had battled in wars not of his own making, had saved people, risked life and limb (literally) and stood up to take control of every single aspect of his destiny, not only in the army but in his business too. So why the hell was being truthful to Steve, telling Steve he wanted more, the hardest thing he'd ever faced in his life? 

Losing Steve, losing what they had, even if it was built on a foundation of shaky half truths and feelings that had grown unexpectedly was not something Bucky was ready for, would _ever_ be ready for. Taking this stupidly small, yet huge step, was crippling. Why did change have to happen? Why couldn’t things progress without conversations and still have everything turn out? Being an adult was not all it was cracked up to be.

Shaking himself from the unhelpful corner his brain was trying to turn down, Bucky grabbed both mugs and snuck back into the bedroom, only to find Steve with the sheet pooling around his waist, blearily looking around, hair sticking up every which way like he’d woken up hungover and had lost his pants at a frat party. 

“Buck?” he said, rubbing his eyes adorably.

“Coffee?”

“Oh my god, yes….” Steve made a grabby motion for the mug, “you’re officially the best thing to have ever walked into my room.” Steve remarked offhand, and Bucky felt a blush climb higher on his cheeks.

“It’s just coffee, punk, and it does absolutely nothing for you,” he deflected, trying not to react as Steve moaned at the first sip, he wanted to elicit those exact noises for other reasons. But, this was just the beginning of the day, there was plenty of time.

“I can still like the taste," Steve said affronted, taking another drink, looking up at Bucky, "is this from my machine?” his brow rose in question, and Bucky placed the mug down to climb onto the bed, straddling Steve’s covered knees. Steve’s eyes widened a little at the position, waking up completely. _Good._

“Yup, why’s that?”

Steve’s breath caught when Bucky began to stroke his thighs, massaging by digging his thumbs into the muscles in a circular motion. “Oh, uh, it just took me months to work… whoa, that feels good… work it out.”

Smirking, Bucky tilted his head, fingers ghosting up further, Steve - never having put underwear back on - was slowly stiffening up under the sheet and the shape of his arousal was a sight to behold. Not unlike a candy you’d been saving for months, knowing once unwrapped, it would be the most delicious thing to ever be placed on your tongue. Bucky’s mouth went dry.

“I asked JARVIS for help.”

The small chuckle from Steve hitched at the end when Bucky’s fingers brushed against his sac, tickling ever so lightly before smoothing back down to his thighs, taking the sheet with him, leaving Steve gloriously on display. And Bucky almost faltered, managing to avert his gaze to stare at the thighs he’d uncovered, noting how thick and gorgeously muscled they were, so much so that Bucky wanted them wrapped around his head so he couldn’t breath.

“What are you doing?” Steve breathed in, finally placing his finished mug on the side table, staring in awe at Bucky as he slid his flat palms back up and over Steve’s hips. Bucky gave a small secret smile, and as he ran his hands back, he dipped them inwards to run either side of Steve’s hardness, pressing tightly. He didn’t linger, moving straight back to his firm legs. Bucky’s mouth was now watering. This was going to be just as tough on him as Steve.

“Exploring? Is that okay?”

Steve nodded back immediately, and Bucky’s smile grew, pleased Steve was communicating and so unusually pliant. The charge between them was tangible in the soft morning light, and Bucky was dizzy with possibilities. 

“Yeah… that… that’s fine.” 

Steve lay back, placing his weight on his elbows to watch Bucky through half lidded eyes and Bucky almost lost his ability to move. Steve’s look full of pure hunger, as if he were _letting_ Bucky play for the moment, before he took control to make him a wailing mess. But no… he couldn’t let that happen. Well not in its entirety anyway.

“Just stop me at any time you don’t like something, alright?”

“Sure thing, Buck.” Steve replied huskily, watching intently as Bucky’s hands began their upwards movement again. This time he bypassed everything, sliding directly up to his impressive chest; body now folded against Steve, chest pressed lightly on Steve’s dick, and Bucky went hard in his sweats, very hard. The new position garnered a response from Steve so unexpectedly needy, the moan and jerking of hips for friction, desperate. Bucky adored the small crack in Steve’s usually controlled armor. 

“Greedy,” he murmured then pinched Steve’s nipples quickly in reprimand, before running his hands all the way back to his thighs once more. He watched gratified as Steve inhaled raggedly, gasping and wriggling underneath him. Steve’s ability to be comfortable with Bucky’s touch that morning, wanting it in fact, was momentous, a thrill working its way up his spine and he splayed his hands out and moved back up once more, stopping over Steve’s hips. He squeezed, rotating his thumbs into the skin deeply. Steve moaned, eyes finally shutting - and that was the moment Bucky had been waiting for. Darting forward he bent over and sucked just the tip of Steve’s dick into his salivating mouth. Fingers digging into the flesh of his body, holding him down.

He should have expected Steve’s response, the hands clasping Bucky’s shoulders immediately, vice-like as he cried out, the jerking of his hips minimal, clearly thinking of Bucky’s poor gag reflex. But as far as Bucky was concerned, his reflex didn’t exist that day; if that’s what Steve desired.

Swirling the head in his warm mouth, Bucky started to suck, tongue darting over the slit, again and again, then pulling off, waiting a bare second, before doing it over. Ecstatic he could do this without guilt or worry, making Steve feel something other than fear, that he didn’t have to _complete,_ he could just - be. Bucky continued teasing just the tip for what could have been ten minutes or an hour, loving that Steve didn’t try and stop him. And judging by the strangled sounds erupting from Steve, the gasps, the litany of baby’s, sweethearts and fucks which escaped, he had no intention of it.

But that wouldn’t do, so with a loud pop, Bucky stopped abruptly and got up off of the bed. Steve’s gaze followed him with a frown, and that’s exactly what he wanted to see.

“Time to get up, we’re heading out today.”

“Err, but…” Steve gestured between his and Bucky’s obvious hardness, the question remained unasked.

Bucky smirked, “Well, sure, Stevie. If you want to join me in the shower, I’ll _let_ you jerk me off.”

He walked out the room whistling, and hadn’t been under the spray for even three seconds before Steve clambered in after him, jerking him off fast, hard and leaving him breathless.

It was going to be a hell of a day.

  
  


“So where are we going?” Steve asked, looking refreshed and invigorated after their quick and steamy shower. Bucky still tingling pleasantly all over from his orgasm, silently pushed the button for the parking garage and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

Bucky didn’t reply straight away, and maneuvered to stand directly in front of Steve, placing his hands behind his back in a nonchalant gesture.

“Just out for some lunch, and there’s a bookshop I want to visit too.” Bucky’s voice remained steady as he took a step back until he was pressed up against the front of Steve. Hands directly aligned with Steve’s dick.

“Wha…?” Steve started, then dropped his head to Bucky’s shoulder when he nimbly unzipped Steve pants, sliding his hand inside to squeeze him. The position obscured the cameras and anyone unfortunate to board the space with them, Bucky had done his research. Steve’s underwear hampered the skin-on-skin contact he prefered, but Bucky knew the pleasure he wrung along with the added element of potentially being caught would only heighten Steve’s experience. 

“Baby, what are you doing?”

The soft words whispered against his ear, punctuated with the sweetest kiss on the side of his neck, wrapped around his heart, warming him, making him feel complete, worthy, whole. 

“Exploring,” he responded matter of fact, voice surprisingly strong as Steve chuckled deeply and filled with naughty promises.

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?”

Smiling deviously, Bucky turned his head to capture Steve’s lips, and as he flicked his tongue inside as a hint for more, he gave a rough tug with his hand, Steve gasping into his open mouth. It was utter perfection. 

Bucky’s hand moved with purpose and although Steve wasn’t fully hard, he was chubby enough that his dick was fat and beautiful under his fingers. He desperately wanted to taste again, but _that_ was something he couldn’t hide from the cameras. There was a real chance Bucky was actually addicted to Steve’s dick. More than a chance really. But ultimately the teasing wasn’t supposed to show more than the barest attention, a reminder to Steve of his touch, but Bucky was already losing his head. Taking more.

Something had definitely shifted between them, changed, something undefinable overnight in their relationship of sorts. There was a comfort in each other's touches unlike before, and Bucky finally felt he was on the same page as Steve. He loved every single thing about it.

They arrived at the basement garage too soon; Bucky removing his hand deftly, letting Steve adjust himself as required before exiting, infinitely glad no one else joined them on their trip down. He liked the idea of voyeurism, but on his terms and not _really_ involving others directly.

When they arrived at the SUV, instead of heading to the drivers side, Steve crowded Bucky against the passenger door, pressing him to the metal frame, kissing deeply, tongue delving in, seeking friction with Bucky’s, which he gave back in spades.

“You’re playing a game aren’t you?” Steve husked against his mouth, with the hint of a smile.

“I have no idea _what_ you’re talking about,” he responded, leaning forward to nip at Steve’s bottom lip playfully. “You’re going to love this book store.” 

Steve only hummed in response, eyes sparkling as he moved away and unlocked the car, watching Bucky with a quirk to his brow. Bucky grinned back and gave directions to the bookshop which was located in Brooklyn, not far from where Bucky lived, but it was his favourite store and he knew Steve would adore it as much as he did. 

As Steve navigated the car out of the parking garage, he glanced over with a fond, slightly reverential look, more so when Bucky rested his palm on his thigh, stroking confidently along it, up and down. But he never cupped Steve at all, even though he could feel the anticipatory clench of Steve’s leg muscles each time he traced his hand towards his hips. Looking out the window to see New York unusually in repose instead, he smiled, not realising how much he too would enjoy ‘exploring’ Steve. Now that he had blanket permission.

The store was old, had been there an age, and the smell of leather and bound books hit the senses as they walked through the large door. It was spread over four levels with big spiralling staircases in the corners, bookshelves adorning all walls from roof to floor, and many dark and cosy nooks to sit in for privacy and enjoy perusing the titles. They sold quality used books, but the ground floor was dedicated to new releases, primarily focussing on small batch printing and local authors, which meant the majority of stories were unique and fresh.

Within ten minutes of arriving Steve had disappeared, face completely slack, mouth agape before falling into a section which housed local tales from the forties and fifties. Bucky preened, beyond pleased he’d introduced Steve to a little slice of Brooklyn’s history. He spent time searching the shelves on the third floor and after grabbing a short story anthology written by different people on their sexual awakenings as influenced by John Hughes movies (he personally had a thing for Jake from Sixteen Candles) he walked around a corner only to find Steve tucked away near a big window, sitting fully on a plush sofa, serene and engrossed in a heavy embossed book.

The sensation of being suckerpunched slammed into him and he took a moment to catch his breath. He was utterly floored by an all consuming wave as he watched Steve turn pages enraptured, not having spied him yet. Bucky was drowning in love. Saturated with it. It was pathetic and wondrous, all wrapped up in one tangled weave of his own making.

“Hey.” Steve said quietly, shaking Bucky from the heart wrenching realisation that he was never going to be able to love anyone else again in his life. Not the way he loved Steve.

"Hey," Bucky replied, a crack in his voice making Steve tilt his head in question. Bucky ignored it, ignored the emotions welling and promptly sat on the arm of the sofa, slightly above Steve.

"This place is brilliant," Steve said as he flipped a page, and Bucky could see he was reading about a bakery war that had transpired in the fifties between two opposing stores on the same street. He smiled indulgently, Steve really was _too_ much.

Placing his hand on the back of Steve's neck, he began to knead gently at the muscles, feeling Steve relax immediately. It was a world apart from their first touches, where Steve practically flinched and stiffened up prior to allowing it, and Bucky couldn't help be thrilled it was he who'd cracked the hard facade of Steve's reluctance to engage physically with others.

He let his hand slip further under the t-shirt, thankful for the wide neck, running his warm palm over Steve’s spine then back up to his neck. Comforting and reminding Steve he was there.

"Good book?"

Steve didn't answer for a long second, and just leaned back into Bucky's soft strokes, humming before nodding his head. Bucky didn’t stop his ministrations, kept the slow and steady slide of his palm constant.

"There is so much history here, from real New Yorkers, not Hollywood blockbusters, or even dramatised fiction, it's real. It's true. I think a lot of my time will be spent here. Thank you."

Blue eyes looked up to Bucky so guileless and full to the brim with happiness that Bucky couldn't help drop his head to capture Steve's lips in a kiss. As always, the intention behind the press of his mouth against Steve's derailed and his tongue flicked deeply, before Steve's hand came up to grasp the back of Bucky's head, holding him in place and taking control until Bucky shivered with the desire to straddle him. But they were in a bookshop, albeit a private corner, but not _that_ private. 

Bucky's nails scratched hard at the skin of Steve's back, hand still sequestered under the fabric and the full body vibration Steve let go along with the moan and deepening of the kiss flicked a switch in his brain. Steve might just be on board for a little extra _something_. As his dick twitched in interest Bucky took a stable breath in, it was not the time to think of potential liaisons.

Breathless, Bucky finally pulled away, hand now trailing gently over the small indents he'd left behind on Steve’s skin. Soothing with fingertips alone.

"I stumbled on to this place walking my neighbours dog a few years ago." He saw Steve perk up when he mentioned a dog, and rubbing his hand down his spine again, he smiled, "they’ve unfortunately moved now. I miss Noodle, and although I thought about it, getting my own dog seemed cruel since I work such horrible hours, but yeah, I found this store and have spent not enough time here, or too much. Depends on how you look at it."

As Steve smiled then immersed himself in the book again, Bucky looked around quickly, and seeing no one in their section, transferred his hand from the back of Steve's t-shirt to the front. Before Steve even realised what had happened, Bucky's fingers slid down over one gloriously huge peck, finding his nipple and pinching, before rolling it between finger and thumb. It stiffened immediately. Steve's entire body thrummed as he let out a low deep breath, but didn't otherwise react.

Bucky pinched again.

“Buck?” Steve asked, voice strained, but in such a beautiful throaty way. Bucky could listen to that particular cadence for eternity.

“Hmm,” he hummed in return, sliding his hand over to give the other nipple the same attention.

“Are you ex…. are you exploring again?” He rasped out, and Bucky rubbed over the sore spot, before pulling his hand back up to smooth over Steve’s shoulders again. _Jesus,_ Steve was practically gagging for the attention, not at all uneasy, taking it all in his stride and Bucky couldn’t be more proud, especially as the night before he’d shown such vulnerability.

“Still okay?” He checked in, removing his hand completely, noticing the way Steve’s body tried to follow him with a small satisfied smirk.

Steve nodded and flipped to the next page, Bucky seeing the slight tremor in his hand. Leaning down to kiss Steve’s temple quickly he patted his back, directly over the healing scratches.

“Take your time, I’m going to go check out the cooking section, there’s a recipe book from the thirties I want to check out.”

“Boiled cabbage and pea soup?” Steve teased, but there was something slightly feral in his gaze, not bad feral, but a glint that meant Bucky might be in trouble later on. _God,_ he hoped so.

“You’re such a jerk, half an hour alright, then I’ll come grab you and we’ll go to lunch?”

“Perfect,” Steve answered steadily, staring into Bucky’s eyes, and somehow he made it sound like he wasn’t talking about their plans.

Gulping, Bucky left Steve to it, sunlight haloing him in a blaze of light and golden rays, reading with a small content smile and Bucky almost tripped over his feet. Too busy staring, and not paying attention to where he was stepping.

It was basically a metaphor for his life.

Lunch was at a small Italian place, kitsch in the best way, the red and white checked cloth on the table adding to the ambiance and Steve couldn’t stop staring at the photos on the wall of all the famous people who’d dined there. It was the right choice for lunch, as Bucky basked in watching Steve’s head swivel from picture to picture, reading the small print where he could see. He was adorably excitable about the most mundane things, and Bucky realised he probably didn’t much get the chance to partake in the normalcy of life, he vowed to rectify that in the future.

The future: scary, unknown and something they _had_ to talk about, soon.

“Neil Armstrong, Buck. I could be sitting right where he did.”

Bucky chuckled at the wide-eyed elation on Steve’s face, “only Captain America would fanboy over an astronaut, you big nerd. You know people get excited when they visit places you’ve been too?”

Shifting uncomfortably on his seat, Steve replied, “well, of course that’s completely different.”

“Hate to break it to you pal, but it’s not.” Steve gave him a feigned annoyed look through his lashes, then stared down at the extensive pizza and pasta menu. Bucky treasured the fact Steve was a huge nerd, loved teasing him about it, because he was just as big a nerd.

They were sitting opposite each other, but Bucky ensured he could entwine their legs and began to rub his shin slowly up and down Steve’s, the small impish grin on Steve’s face before he ducked his head when Bucky had started the movement, telling. He was enjoying Bucky’s game.

Lunch was glorious, they ate too much, to the delight of the wait staff, joked constantly and the entire time Bucky had some part of his body pressed against Steve’s, their fingers currently tangled on the tabletop. Bucky brushed his thumb over Steve’s palm, relentless, until he closed his fist with a small smile. Halting the movement.

“Too much?” Bucky asked, concerned.

“Not enough,” Steve husked, and Bucky had never asked for a cheque quicker.

The drive back to the Tower thick with tension, and Bucky’s hand resting on Steve’s thigh didn’t move until the relentless traffic eased and they were almost at their destination. Then he made good on his unspoken promise, sliding directly up to cup Steve through his pants, then moving back to almost his knee, the sharp inhale of breath visible in the way Steve held himself, anticipation riding them both. Bucky continued gliding his hand, teasing with feather light touches every so often over Steve’s mouthwatering bulge. And when they made it inside the parking garage, Bucky couldn’t wait any longer and unzipped Steve to take him in hand. The pants too constricting, so he undid the button and pulled Steve’s underwear down so the head popped free. Steve had an absolutely stunning dick.

“Jesus, sweetheart, let a man park.”

Bucky flicked his thumb over the tip, and Steve hit the brakes a little too hard, making Bucky chuckle at the enthusiasm. He really should have waited, but how on earth was he supposed to when he had Steve in his grasp. As soon as the car came to a complete halt, Bucky’s seat belt was off and he lunged, greedily gulping Steve down. Steve, to his credit, gasped loudly before letting out a deep seated moan, shifting his hips forward to give Bucky more room, more to swallow down and the large hand resting on the back of his head made him hum in pleasure. Oh god, _yes,_ that’s what he was talking about. It felt like Steve was guiding his movements, allowing Bucky the pleasure of having Steve in his mouth.

It only took seconds for Bucky to lose himself in the motion, the sensations, the pure filth that was sucking on Steve’s dick. He adored how it continued to grow, larger and larger under his hands, his mouth and the small moans from above him stoked the fire burning low in his gut. Slurping loudly on purpose, because he loved hearing the noises and Steve’s reaction to it, he took as much as he could down his throat, which wasn’t as much as he _could_ take, but the angle didn’t help. Steve appreciated the effort if the fingers tangling in Bucky’s hair, tugging, was any indication. Shit, he loved having his hair pulled, it _did_ things to him. It made him feel owned and he fully intended to explore that kink with Steve at a later date. 

As he suckled hungrily, loving the sheer maleness, the taste, the way Steve’s dick twitched under his tongue, he undid the button on his own pants to loosen them. He then grasped the base of Steve’s dick and kitten licked all over, before removing his mouth. Steve’s small whine of loss, music to his ears.

“Can you suck your finger, Stevie? Get it _real_ wet?”

“Uhh… yeah?” The question in his voice, clear, and Bucky just wriggled his hips invitingly. 

Then he doubled down, sucking Steve deep, hearing the intake of air and the small ‘oh’ of realisation from above him. The sound of Steve wetting his finger was something Bucky would take to his grave and think of for the rest of his upcoming life. It was debased, it was filthy and as Steve’s hand slid down the back of his pants while Bucky leant forward, mouth full of dick, and teased over his rim, well, Bucky just about died.

The pressure against Bucky’s hole perfection, the soft growl which left Steve’s throat as he ran his finger around it, trying, pulsing, pushing in a fraction had Bucky whimpering for more, and he sucked and lathed Steve’s dick harder and more frantically.

“ _Christ,_ you’re something else, baby, so good, so damn good for me…” Steve murmured as he pushed inside finally, and with a gasp, Bucky ground back on Steve’s finger, needed more depth, more friction, he just needed _more_.

“I want this inside of me,” Bucky whined around Steve’s hardness, licking from base to tip, feeling Steve shudder from not only his body but the way his finger deep inside of Bucky faltered for a moment.

“Yeah, that’s what you want?”

Bucky slurped louder, tongue wriggling against the eye of Steve’s dick, the guttural and possessive moan making Bucky quiver, his mouth frantically moving, kissing, licking, sucking harder while sliding his spit slicked fist up and down Steve’s shaft, squeezing tight, then loosening in a maddening tempo. Steve’s finger pumped quicker, the delicious chafing from lack of lubricant the right side of friction, he needed to get Steve slicked up and inside of him.

“Want nothing else…” Bucky managed to husk out, before jacking Steve harder. “I just want you - so much.”

“Fuck… inside now.” Steve hissed out between his teeth, the loss of his finger and being pulled up off Steve’s dick creating a rumble of discontent in Bucky. “Oh baby, your eyes, you’re already halfway gone. God damn gorgeous like this aren’t you?”

Bucky was then wrapped up into a kiss so deep he couldn’t breath, and the next few minutes as Steve bundled him upstairs and into his apartment were lost in a haze of bliss.

They made it as far as the sofa, and somehow Bucky managed to pull his head back from the brink of spacing out and letting Steve take over by a hair's breadth. Gulping in some much needed air, he stared at Steve, whose breathing was heavy, eyes hooded, waiting. 

“Strip,” He commanded and noted the surprise in Steve’s eyes before he obediently complied, while Bucky went to the bedroom to grab the lube on shaky legs. He came back to see Steve hovering, not uncertain, but waiting for Bucky’s lead, he melted at the sight. Steve might say Bucky was good for him, but Steve was just the best in return. “Now sit.”

Steve sat immediately on the sofa, dick hard and quivering as he settled, thighs tense, arms huge and bulging as he watched Bucky closely, undeniable lust in his entire stance.

Smiling, Bucky undressed before Steve, unashamed in his body, trembling as Steve’s eyes darkened with each piece of clothing that he dropped on the ground, knowing his actions were affecting him by the unconscious jerk of his dick. Bucky then stood before Steve completely naked and hard as granite. He’d never been so damn hard. He was certain of it.

Giving himself a few well practised tugs, hissing at the sensation, he saw the way Steve’s tongue darted out to lick his lips and, smirking, he straddled Steve’s impossibly thick thighs, wrapping his hands around the back of Steve’s neck possessively, hearing him gulp. He then pulled himself forward until their dicks pressed up against each other, and leaning in he kissed Steve brutally, taking control, squeezing his neck and pushing his tongue deep into his mouth, while grinding against him.

“Get me ready, won’t you, Stevie?” Bucky murmured against his lips, before pushing forward again, taking what he wanted from Steve whose hands gripped his hips tight, barely staying in control.

The snick of the bottle and the teasing push of Steve’s fingers against his hole filtered through his senses and he damn well whined as Steve pressed in, pumping slow and sweet, bringing Bucky closer to falling apart. But before he lost his head, Bucky reached between them, grasping both their dicks in his hand and began to loosely jerk, Steve hissing through his teeth.

“Feels good,” he said and pushed another finger deep into Bucky, who cried out at the fullness.

“Just wanna make you feel _so_ good.” Bucky replied, hand moving faster, gripping tighter, then loose again, before twisting his wrist; the small huffs from Steve’s throat egging him on. Somehow he kept his pace, trying to tamper down his own excitement. It was almost impossible with Steve writhing under him. But he managed.

“You do, baby, you always do,” Steve whispered, capturing Bucky’s lips again. His stomach thrilled at the unexpected words, and having Steve fill him up so beautifully, in the way only he knew how, made everything tingle.

After minutes of heavy breathing, slick fingers and moans filling the room, Bucky leant back, eyes twinkling, catching Steve’s before wriggling forward. He grabbed Steve’s arm and pulled so he had no choice but to remove his fingers, and although Bucky whined at the loss, he knew he’d soon be so full it wouldn’t matter.

Putting his weight on his knees, he reached behind his body, grasping the base of Steve’s dick, lining it up, and staring into Steve’s hungry eyes, he pressed down, the head of Steve’s dick so much fatter than his fingers, but the sensational burn was all Bucky cared about. He adored this, the first push, the tightness, the way Steve’s whole body lit up at being inside of Bucky.

Sliding down carefully, he watched enraptured as Steve’s eyes flickered and shut for a second as he became enveloped in Bucky’s heat. Bucky meanwhile braced himself, Steve almost too big, too hard, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t crave this feeling, the impact of being utterly split in two, until pain became pleasure. He’d take Steve, _all_ of Steve, every single time, just to see the wondrous expression fill him as Bucky slid the last inch or so, sheathing him completely.

“Oh baby…” Steve breathed. But that’s all the time Bucky gave him to adjust.

Grasping his shoulder tight in one hand, while the other pressed against Steve’s chest, Bucky began to ride Steve. 

Hard.

Every bounce, every motion, every slide, made Steve reach deeper and deeper inside, until Bucky was certain his core was a mangled pile of nerves. Steve threw his head back against the couch, panting like never before, and Bucky was vibrating from the reaction, the deep-seated realisation that he was making Steve _feel_ good.

Bucky was so full, but it _wasn’t_ enough, he needed more.

“Floor…” he rasped, and bleary eyed, Steve nodded and in an unfathomably strong motion, lifted Bucky and stood all at once. It was the hottest thing Steve had ever done to Bucky and he cried out at the new friction as Steve stood next to the sofa for the longest moment, grunting as he thrust into Bucky mid air, who felt actual tears sliding down his cheeks. It felt too good, too damn phenomenal. But he wasn’t finished yet, he wasn’t going to come, to lose his place and zone out.

Steve must have sensed Bucky’s reluctance to let go of himself, and swiftly placed them on the floor so gently Bucky caught his breath at the care in the middle of the chaos. But no sooner was Bucky on his back feeling all doe-eyed, than Steve began to drive into him in earnest, hitting the spot which had him crying out for more. But this wasn’t what he needed, not now. So using his metal arm, he flipped them, Steve’s astonished and surprised rasp when Bucky was suddenly sat on top riding him properly without the hindrance of the sofa, had him moving faster, slamming himself harder. 

Holding Steve down with his arm, he felt him testing, trying to push up but unable to. And when their eyes locked, Steve’s were blown in the realisation that he couldn’t move, only the smallest ring of blue remained. 

“You like being pinned? At my mercy, Stevie?” Bucky husked the words as they jarred with every punishing downward motion.

Steve didn’t speak, couldn’t, he was a mess and only a rumble came from deep in his chest and that’s what Bucky was searching for. Grinding down hard, he reached for the lube, and coated a finger, Steve too engrossed, hands finding Bucky’s hips and thrusting up to notice. The wrecked gasps torn from his throat, each one coming in quicker than the last as Bucky rode him.

“Look at me, baby?” Bucky asked, and Steve’s eyes snapped open at the endearment. “I need you to fuck up into me as hard as you can, when I tell you to, alright?”

Steve nodded, half comprehending, half out of his mind and Bucky had never seen anything so beautiful as Steve Rogers coming apart underneath him.

“Now.” He commanded and Steve’s knees rose, bracketing Bucky, and he started to jackhammer hard up into his body, and only _just_ holding onto his own sanity, Bucky’s metal fingers pinched Steve’s nipple hard, the growl and faltering in Steve’s hips exactly what he wanted before he slipped his flesh hand behind him and in a quick movement, reached back until his finger grazed Steve’s tight hole.

“Oh fuck…” Steve yelled into the room as Bucky pushed around the rim harder and Steve’s hips started to jerk out of time as Bucky rubbed firmer, faster, fingertip breaching him just a little bit, then further still as Steve’s thrusts ensured to eat Bucky’s finger up.

He pinched Steve’s nipple again, the stretched out position Bucky was in, not the most comfortable but Steve’s reaction worth every single pang and sore muscle he’d feel later.

He pushed his finger in deeper, thrusting gently and Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head as he continued gallantly to thrust up into Bucky’s now loosened and abused hole.

"Oh my god, holy fuck… shit… Bucky. I'm gonna… I'm fucking gonna..." Steve's entire body bowed up, almost dislodging Bucky who held on for dear life, finger deep inside of Steve, feeling him clench around it. Steve's screwed up face, a mixture of the sweetest agony and absolute ecstasy, skin perfectly pink, mouth forming an 'o' and Bucky had never ever in his entire life felt the way he did right then, watching Steve torn asunder under his hands, his body. Giving him something he'd been dreaming of for more years than imaginable.

Steve was insanely hot as he throbbed inside of him. Bucky feeling Steve's warm release, pulsing from his body. But it was the sensation in conjunction with the sight that killed him, a sight never to be forgotten, something he would always chase after, try to give Steve as often as he could. Steve puffed loudly, lips shaping words which didn't escape, fingers bruising Bucky's hips as he held him down like a vice, and Bucky couldn’t help but stroke himself to completion at the sight. The tightening of his ass around Steve as he came, creating another stream of babbling words from Steve’s throat as he gazed up at him like Bucky had hung the moon. Even covered in strips of Bucky’s come, Steve was the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

"You okay, Stevie?" He tried, and the fucked-out look he received was well worth the lack of verbal communication.

Steve suddenly lurched up, dick jerking deep inside of Bucky and smothered his mouth. The kiss frantic, adoring and taking the last remnants of Bucky's breath.

The kiss soon turned into something more, their lips moving slow and sensual against each other, tongue dipping in sweetly, to taste as their breathing returned to normal, Steve’s hand now running up and down Bucky’s spine, holding him, continuously touching.

Pulling back, Steve lay down again, his expression unguarded, open, and Bucky sucked in a breath at the utter devotion shining through. He tried to explain it away, after all he’d just given Steve an orgasm, the greatest one Bucky had ever been a witness to. But he couldn’t explain it.

His throat constricted, the moment charged, goosebumps erupted over his skin as he sat with Steve still sheathed inside of him, holding his gaze so intently there was no way he could look away.

Reaching a hand up, Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek, thumb tracing patterns slowly across it and he couldn’t stop the small nervous shiver which started in his toes and travelled throughout his body. He was too in love, he had to tell Steve, he couldn’t not. Not when he was looking up at him so utterly devastated, blue eyes wondrous and shining with unsaid emotions.

Emotions Bucky hoped mirrored his.

But the words didn’t make it out as Steve suddenly tugged Bucky down, capturing his lips once more in a soft, chaste kiss, before hugging him to his chest, holding him so close, tight and Bucky didn’t ever want to lay anywhere else for the entirety of his life, even sticky as it was. He was about to try and say something meaningful, convey how momentous everything had been to him as well, but Steve spoke in a gravelly voice underneath him, stopping him.

“No one has ever... I mean, no-ones touched me like that, or taken the time… you _explored_ all day. God, and with the build up of the last few weeks… _you_ did this, just to give me...” Steve trailed off and Bucky felt the press of lips on the crown of his head and smiled against Steve’s warm bulk. He wasn’t just gone on Steve, he was gone and never to be returned, lost for all eternity in the wilds. “No one has ever done this for me… Buck.. I…. fuck… I -”

The loud unexpected banging at the door shook Bucky to the core, still blissed out on Steve’s dick, Steve’s expressions and words, still coming down from the sexual high and he growled against Steve’s chest.

“Ignore them, they’ll go away.” Steve whispered, annoyance in his voice.

The banging increased and they could hear someone yelling on the other side of the door.

“Uh, what if you’re needed for a mission,” Bucky asked, but he still didn’t remove himself from Steve, his softening dick still big enough not to slip from his body and he was addicted. Deciding right then and there he was never giving this up. He’d find the courage, and all of a sudden a burst of resolve filled his chest.

“Steve, I’d like - “

“- Captain, Sergeant, apologies for the interruption, but Sir has demanded both of your presences are required upstairs immediately.” JARVIS' voice surrounded them.

Steve groaned, anger tautening every muscle, and Bucky swallowed his confession. “And if we don’t?”

“Then he will override your security and come get you himself.”

“Give us ten.” Steve yelled, furious.

The knocking stopped and JARVIS didn’t respond again. Bucky chuckled at the slew of swear words erupting from Steve’s throat. “God damn it. How the hell does Tony manage to ruin one of the single most amazing moments of my life?”

Steve grasped Bucky’s head to pull him in for another deep kiss, slightly unhinged, lacking control as if Steve were still riding the high of his orgasm. And he continued to kiss Bucky, the intensity different from before, it was more desperate, more teeth and tongue as if Steve wanted to climb into Bucky, claim him from the inside out, and Bucky wanted to express that Steve already had him, had everything, soul included. 

“You now have five minutes, Sirs.” JARVIS’s voice surrounded them, and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh when Steve picked up the coffee table one handed and went to throw it, then thought better of it, dropping it with a crash.

Bucky rose shakily to his feet, feeling Steve’s release slipping from his body, and the way Steve’s eyes devoured him, the possessive hungry look as he watched his come trickle down Bucky’s thigh, was probably the most erotic moment of his life.

They made it upstairs twenty minutes later, after Steve cleaned and sucked Bucky down reverently in the shower. Worshipping every inch of him until Bucky was buzzing with endorphins, never to come down from the high.

Not one person said a word about their tardiness.

  
  


Steve looked as if he were about to launch Tony through the window, and Bucky was fairly certain they were shatter proof and even the Hulk in hulk form couldn’t make them crack. But he had a feeling Steve would somehow succeed, he was _that_ peeved.

Feeling somewhat delighted he was partly the cause of Steve’s frustration, as he could tell by the heated looks thrown at him all afternoon at Tony’s compulsory ‘family drinks’ that Steve wanted to throw Bucky down and screw him solidly for the rest of the night. He wasn’t going to lie, it’s exactly what he was hoping for. But ultimately, Tony’s annoyingly and frankly overbearing need to be the centre of attention and have everyone around him at all times, gave Bucky a breather. To allow his body a modicum of rest before he knew Steve would tear it apart again.

“This is a waste of time, I just want to get us out of here,” Steve whispered harshly against Bucky’s ear for the fortieth time that evening, but the way he gripped Bucky’s hip tightly then pushed a bruising kiss to his head, made his whiny words less whiny and more of a promise of things to come.

“They’re your friends and you haven’t seen some of them for weeks.” Bucky replied quietly, trying to make the most of a situation that wasn’t ideal, because honestly he didn’t want to be there any more than Steve. Their post orgasm cuddles, whispered sweet words, everything had been cut short and Bucky was pissed at Tony for that, but Steve was Captain America and this is what it would be like if they actually dated. Especially if Iron Man was a friend and business partner.

A man who was now striding towards them. He was braver than Bucky gave him credit for.

“Play nice,” Bucky bit through his teeth when he felt Steve stiffen up.

“Well, well, well - and why were you two delightfully chipper and engaging chaps late to my soiree, it’s been in your calendar for a month.”

Until that very second, Bucky had actually completely forgotten about the invite, other more important Steve related capers distracting him. He also didn’t miss the dig that Steve and he had been less than social so far. To be fair he’d just wrung an eighty year orgasm in the making from Steve, no wonder he was a little testy at being out in public less than an hour later.

“Can we leave yet?” Steve asked point blank and Bucky almost winced at the tone. Steve was an obtuse, pouty thing when he didn’t get his way. It was a revelation, and something Bucky thought he’d be able to capitalise on someday. But he backed Steve’s question.

Natasha sidled up next to them, greeting Buck with a nod of her head as Tony took in a deep breath to respond to Steve’s less than polite question. 

“Why’s that then? You thinking up ways to defile my business partner right under my nose? In my home?” 

Bucky could tell immediately that Tony was trying to get a rise out of Steve, trying to make him blush, but also knew Steve was not in the mood to tolerate it. If he didn’t try and diffuse the situation that Tony had no idea he’d walked in on, then words may be spoken which couldn’t be taken back.

“Tony,” he interrupted Steve’s inhale that indicated he was about to go off, “you do know it’s Steve’s home too, right? _And_ you’re lucky, because if you’d knocked three minutes earlier, you would have heard clearly how much I enjoyed every second of being defiled, over and over again.”

Tony let out an almost indecipherable noise and quirked his mouth up before slipping a pair of sunglasses with orange lenses over his eyes, clearly looking for something to do with his hands.

“Huh, well then, Bucky Lovelace, I think you’ve made me lose my appetite. Well done.”

He clapped Steve’s back twice and walked away throwing a, “leave whenever you want, heathens or maybe that’s sexthens,” over his shoulder.

Steve chuckled, looking over at Bucky, smiling, eyes lighting up for the first time since they arrived at Tony’s upstairs bar. “Jesus, Buck the way you handle Tony is masterful. No wonder I love you so much.”

Bucky who was taking a sip of his drink at that exact moment, choked on the liquid, what? _What did Steve just say?_ He snapped his wide-eyed gaze directly to Steve’s blue one, heart hammering so loud in his chest he could hear it in his ears. Steve was looking just as shocked and unsteady by the words which had fallen from his mouth.

“Well boys, you’ve certainly come a long way.” Natasha drawled from beside Bucky and he’d completely forgotten she was there. Is that why Steve said those words? Was it a slip of the tongue or a deliberate move in their... _thing_? Then it hit him, no matter the reason, Steve just said he loved him. Him, being Bucky.

But as he watched slack jawed, unable to speculate on why Steve said it and for what reason, due to the fact his brain was looping that particular parcel of wonderful words over and over, Steve continued to stare at him. His mouth moved but no sound came out, panic started to fill Steve’s eyes as they flicked between Bucky and Natasha, before his face went through a complicated array of expressions, none lasting for more than a second and Bucky ached to know if what he’d divulged was truth or part of their ridiculous facade.

“Steve,” he started, but came to a loss when Steve held up his hand halting the words, face pale and void of any colour, before spinning on his heel, walking directly out of the room. Bucky stood motionless, watching him leave, confusion roiling in his gut.

Staring at the space Steve had just vacated, Bucky sucked in a breath, hearing it rattle in his chest. Christ, he’d longed to hear those words for an age, wanted them hopelessly, needed to say them back, but this was not exactly how he’d imagined it to go. He wasn’t even certain if Steve meant what he’d said, and if he did, why tell him in front of Natasha? Why not earlier when wrapped up with each other after the most profoundly passionate lovemaking he’d ever been a part of? Though why he’d also not revealed his feelings then was also a good point.

Steve was brave though, a hero, someone who never faltered in a face of adversity. Surely if he actually loved Bucky, he wouldn’t hold it close to his chest - would he?

Bucky swallowed thickly, he too could be called brave, a hero, albeit in a different vein, but had he told Steve? No, he was holding it so tight to his chest it was hard to breath.

Had he misread everything?

“Steve, you damn idiot,” Natasha murmured, placing an arm around Bucky’s shoulder, and without realising it he leant into the warmth she offered. Not sure where the chill in the air had come from all of a sudden. 

“That’s the first time he’s said that right?”

“Err…” Bucky wasn’t sure how to respond, still trying to grasp what had transpired over the last three minutes, and waiting for Steve to return. Because he would - wouldn’t he?

Natasha sighed, “Look, I know.” Bucky cut his eyes to her. “I know that Steve asked you to pretend to be his boyfriend.”

Bucky slumped, feeling what little fight he had left escape his body, “oh, of course you do. Darcy?”

“Not Darcy. I knew from the start. Steve’s too… “ She let it hang for a second, “Steve’s too clueless, for lack of a better term to have landed himself a boyfriend, he’s too reserved, not scared, but unsure. Then suddenly there you were. It took three seconds of fact checking to know you’d not been dating previously. Look, I love him dearly, but he’s not great at communication.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, watching the door Steve had disappeared through and coming to the realisation that he wasn’t about to return, and that, for some reason, hurt. Maybe he’d pushed things too far, too soon. But, he rationalised, not _everything_ was Bucky’s fault, and that was one of the things he had to work on, to realise, that sometimes people just reacted to their inner cues, not external factors. Steve was obviously unnerved about saying those words in front of Bucky and had dealt with it in the only way he knew how. Solitude. 

“But… and you’re going to hate this, you need to go after him.” Natasha continued, and Bucky had to really think what they were talking about, lost in his own confusion.

“What? But he clearly - “

“- is not used to feelings.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, knowing it to be true, but unsure if he could follow Steve so soon after voicing words Bucky wanted desperately to be true then running off because, why? He didn’t mean them? That it was a mistake? Was it the fact Steve’s emotions were tangled up in the sex they’d shared, and coming for the first time in years with a partner, he’d blurted something he didn’t mean and panicked?

“Bucky - do you love him?” Natasha asked quietly, pulling him from the spiralling thoughts, and Bucky took in a shaky inhale, centering himself and looked into her green eyes unflinchingly.

“So much so that I cant breath, can’t think, that all I want for the rest of my life is to be with him, next to him, to care for him.” It felt good to say it out loud to someone other than Darcy. It was just his luck that it was Darcy’s girlfriend.

“Well then, all you need to do is swap me out for Steve and say that to him.”

“Shit.” Bucky said and knew she was right. It was time, actually it was well overdue that he stood up for what he desired, what he craved, what he wanted for the rest of his life. And as he walked out of the room with Natasha’s ‘good-luck’ ringing in his ears, he knew finally without a shadow of a doubt that Steve was worth the risk, worth losing it all for, only the best things in life were. 

  
  


Steve’s front door was unlocked, and Bucky tentatively knocked and let himself in, finding Steve in the kitchen, hands resting on the countertop, head bowed and a half glass of water by his hand. His heart thumped as Steve finally looked up, eyes filled with uncertainty, like Bucky could somehow destroy him with only a word. 

But before Bucky could say anything, Steve spoke.

“Look I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin this…” he gestured between the two of them, “what we have.”

Watching as Steve balled his fist up on the white surface, eyes averted and unwilling to meet Bucky’s, it was plain in the way he held himself that he was expecting rejection. What was he so scared of? God, it was terribly obvious how Bucky felt, wasn’t it? It sure seemed like it, he’d been wearing his heart on his sleeve for months now. Bucky opened his mouth to refute Steve, but he didn’t get a chance as Steve spoke over him knowing he’d be cutting Bucky off.

“Can you forget I said anything? I really need you to ignore it. Just please don’t go, don’t leave.” The pleading in his voice hit Bucky low in the gut, as if he would abandon Steve, no matter what the outcome. “Pretend I never said it.”

And that’s what finally spurred Bucky on, what stoked the determination to tell the truth, that damn fucking word. 

_Pretend._

He was sick of it, over the immense complications it had caused, the uncertainty it had brought down in Bucky’s life. And Steve's. 

He wasn’t taking any more crap, he was going to shoot his shot, and if it backfired and Steve really didn’t mean what he said. Well he’d deal with it then, probably move to another country, change his appearance and take a vow of chastity. Overreaction maybe? Not if he couldn’t have Steve in his life it wasn't.

“Did you mean it?” He asked first, not really expecting a response. "What you said?"

Steve looked at him pleadingly, and let out a small wounded noise, and Bucky sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He almost took it back, almost stood on the precipice of telling Steve that sure, he could forget what was said, go back to the way things were. But he couldn’t. He was beyond that now.

“You know what, it actually doesnt matter, does it?” He said more to himself, knowing Steve heard him, he waited a bare moment, but no response was forthcoming. He momentarily caught Steve’s larger than usual blue eyes before they darted across his face, as if memorising every line. As if this was the last time he'd be seeing Bucky.

“Steve, let's just cut the crap, I can't do this anymore. The fake dating.”

The way Steve physically moved back had the appearance of being struck, “oh… right, I mean, sure - I get it. I’m,” Steve heaved in a deep shaking breath, “I’m sorry.”

Wanting nothing more than to assuage Steve’s worry, he barrelled on, needing to get it all out, scared if he didn’t just continue, he might stop and lose his nerve, again. “Look, I can’t keep hiding away, not taking a chance. We have one shot at life, of being happy and damn it, I really hope you’re on the same page as me.”

“Yeah sure,” Steve said dejectedly, eyes now averted, looking towards the coffee machine, "...same page."

“Jesus, are you always such a fucking martyr,” at that Steve’s eyes jumped back to him and Bucky held his gaze steadily. Confidence and an overwhelming sense of rightness filled him for the first time in the entire fiasco, and he somehow found the strength to say the next words.

“Just listen alright. One, you don't tell someone you love them, then walk out the room - that’s damn rude. Two…" he paused then gulped, he had nothing left to lose. "If what you said before has an ounce of truth in it, well it's only fair that I let you know, that I love you too. Practically have from the first day -”

“- what?” Steve burst out.

“Hey, don’t interupt me when I’m talking.”

Steve’s mouth had fallen open, and the shudder that went through him made Bucky take a small step forward, but he didn’t get any closer as Steve’s voice, small and disbelieving asked, “you love me… _me_?”

Letting out a small chuckle, breathless and full of relief, Bucky felt everything align and gave Steve a look of pure indulgence. Steve’s face shocked and so painfully hopeful. “Of course I do, how can I not? But, I was serious, don't interrupt me again.”

Bucky didn’t get another word out, as Steve launched himself across the counter, coming to a halt less than an inch away, palms cupping Bucky’s face, eyes depthless, staring deeply into Bucky’s, sheer utter joy radiating out of every pore.

“Christ, Buck. I can’t believe, I just, _god_ ... I just.” Steve stopped and the goofy grin which burst over his face, elicited the exact same uninhibited grin on Bucky’s. Steve was lost for words and he _adored_ it. “Honestly, I love you so much. Have for months now.”

And hearing those words from Steve’s mouth, just for him, with no audience, no one around them, filled him to the brim with euphoria. He felt complete, he was home, and after everything they’d been through the entire complicated charade, they had finally clicked into place.

“We’re idiots aren’t we?” Bucky responded, feeling Steve’s hands tremble as they held his face, and he was surprised to note his vision blurring, oh god, he’d welled up in joy. He _was_ a sap. Blinking so he could see properly again, he gave a watery smile, “You’re it for me, Stevie, I don’t want anyone else. Love you, always.”

Steve’s gaze didn’t falter, his expression a mixture of realised hope and adoration, and how had Bucky missed it all of that time? How had he intentionally misinterpreted the signs? He was a damn fool, he knew that, but so was Steve, the biggest one walking the planet and he was all Bucky’s, every single inch of the perfection standing before him. As he stared into Bucky’s eyes like he was the single most important person in the universe, Steve leant in, and Bucky’s heart rate increased tenfold. 

Their lips finally met, and somehow it felt like a first kiss. Full of promises, desires and a future together, of truth. Steve’s lips were soft and gentle as they moved over Bucky’s, taking what he wanted, both of them smiling through it every so often and it was the most perfect kiss of his life.

When Steve finally pulled back, he lightly leaned his forehead on Bucky’s and sighed deeply.

“Bucky Barnes, would you do me the honour of being my boyfriend? Officially?”

Laughing, Bucky leant forward to press his lips against Steve's again, unable to stop grinning, he had a feeling it would be a long time before he did. 

“Yeah, Stevie. I’d love nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant believe. They. Finally. Got. There!!!!
> 
> Bless these two idiots and I mean, the slow burn tag was probably the most accurate one I've used in this fic (please ignore it says slow burnish - lol)
> 
> Every single one of you has been so damn brilliant and patient with this, so thankyou again from the bottom of my tropey heart :)
> 
> Prepare for the upcoming FLUFF (and other related softness {and hotness})


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys!!!!! (Insert a second of quiet contemplation as I vibrate out of my skin) you’ve overwhelmed me with all the love for these boys and the big reveal of their feelings. I am so so happy and thrilled to bits that you enjoyed their lengthy journey to happiness. It’s been such a ride and you are all so wonderfully engaged with the story (and me) :)
> 
> Now I made a promise to my best gal [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) that she would get some FLUFF (direct quote without the swear words). I think in the end I managed more schmoop with a sprinkling of fluff - so have fun reading boys in love (officially).

Steve’s strong arms curled around Bucky’s waist, head resting heavily on his lap, and Bucky couldn’t help but sit on the sofa as fulfillment raced through his veins. Carding his fingers through Steve’s hair while a documentary on deep sea marine life played quietly in the background, was a state of nirvana he’d never thought he’d reach. As the drull tone of the presenter quietly filled the space, neither of them listened, too busy sneaking looks at each other before breaking out into beaming smiles. And if Bucky’s cheeks were sore from grinning, he didn’t care at all.

Every glance they shared since the evening before had Bucky's poor heart pulsing in his chest so hard he was actually worried it would never resume it’s standard beat. The truth of their relationship surrounded them, the calmness and the sheer feeling of being untroubled hit him square in the gut. His mind was free of the shackles, and the satisfied bliss which oozed from every pore of his exhausted body was heady and addictive. 

A large part of Bucky still couldn't fathom that he had this. That he now had Steve. He could touch, kiss, nuzzle, _fuck_ anytime he wanted and there would be no more doubts trying to knock through his skull to tell him he was on borrowed time or that his desires were unrequited. Because those doubts weren't real. Steve wanted him just as much, if not more, in return.

Bucky had already suffered through six excruciatingly delightful orgasms since becoming Steve's boyfriend the evening before, and the ecstatic bundle of nerves in his stomach hadn’t dissipated at all, it remained coiled, ready. His head was a different story; a floaty ball of satisfaction at finally having his thirst slaked, only for it to rear its head not even minutes later. He would happily drown in Steve Rogers, would sink to the bottom of him, never leave, curl up and stay forever.

“Buck?” Steve asked lazily, rolling to his back, looking up at him adoringly. His face so obvious in his affection and Bucky couldn’t believe he’d misread it, even knowing Steve had also been guarded by hiding his emotions just as much as he had, it was plain as day and he’d still missed it. But the expression Steve wore in that moment was akin to the sun peeking from behind the clouds now he had permission, that it was known.

“Mmm?” he hummed back, scritching behind Steve’s ear, before running his fingers through the blonde locks again. Steve leaned into it, reaching a hand up to trace a path across Bucky's lips, making him inhale tightly, loving the way Steve's fingertips mapped him. Steve pressed at Bucky's plush skin, then trailed down to his chin to squeeze lightly, hand dropping a moment later. Steve's eyes sparkled, crinkling in the corners and he turned in Bucky's lap so he lay on his side, facing Bucky's stomach, arm snaking around his back, holding him close. Steve was one hell of a cuddler. 

Warm breath puffed over his groin and for a moment, Bucky wondered if Steve was going to mouth his fabric covered dick, and Bucky wouldn’t say no to it, would never say no. But Steve didn’t, not just then anyway, though Bucky was certain the thought crossed Steve's mind by the way his eyes honed in on the area before they shut.

“Do we _have_ to go up for dinner tonight?” he finished his half forgotten thought, the whine in his voice apparent, making Bucky huff out a chuckle. Steve was officially petulant, and somehow that side of him was also lovable. For now, at least.

“Well, we ran out last night before the hors d’oeuvres, and Tony did ask politely this time.”

Steve craned his neck to look over at the ostentatious gold and white embossed paper, more like a wedding invitation than an informal invite to dinner with the Avengers. Bucky picked it up once more, the words inside ruining any formality Tony was attempting to achieve.

_\- I humbly request the presence of Steven Grant ‘Ice-man’ Rogers and James Bucky ‘overshare’ Barnes to a 7 course degustation held in the Penthouse dining room at 7 sharp. Formal wear desired, conversations about cocks, sex in my home and thirsty men will be monitored and are not permitted within earshot of Tony 'the one, the only - Iron Man' Stark -_

"Can we walk in, say nothing but the word cock then leave?" Steve asked then buried his head further into Bucky's lap making him laugh, adoring how Steve clearly just wanted them to be alone, to bask in the newness that was _them_. And didn’t that make his heart skip a beat, there was actually a 'them' to talk about. Steve and Bucky, together against the world, it sounded like a story, an exceptional one. But as much as Bucky wanted to hide away with Steve for the next year exploring, they couldn’t.

"No, unfortunately we can’t,” Bucky chuckled, “plus Darcy is coming, bringing a suit from my apartment for this _formalwear_ we have to dress up in. Honestly, we can throw about ten cocks into the conversation just for the ridiculousness of it all if you want.” He smiled as Steve happily nodded in agreement against his lap, “I haven't even told her that we're really dating yet," the thrill in Bucky's chest at the words, would never get old, "and you know Tony's hired a chef and I _do_ love good food…" 

He finished with a shrug, and Steve retaliated with such a put-upon sigh, Bucky felt it all the way to his toes. _Dramatic Cap_ was a thing.

Steve wriggled further into Bucky’s lap, pressing forward until he nosed his t-shirt up to give his stomach a lingering close mouthed kiss. Squirming in more than just desire, Bucky pushed his face gently away with a laugh, fighting against the need to pull him closer.

“You realise your beard is ticklish as all hell, don’t you?”

“Nope, I didn’t, sorry.” Steve said, sounding anything but.

“Uh-huh, you did that on purpose right?"

"I'd never," was the aghast response.

And before it escalated into an absurd play fight where Steve blew raspberries against him, the promise of a Great White Shark captured their attention, and Steve spun over on Bucky's lap once more to see the screen, but his adjusted grip around Bucky's waist was exponentially firmer than before, like he couldn’t bare to let go, to not be touching Bucky. His entire body vibrated at the thought of Steve’s constant possessiveness with touch, how greedy he was for it now. How he’d never have to go without it again.

As they watched the predator roam on screen, Bucky absently ran his fingers softly up and down Steve’s arms, then across his back, rubbing small patterns and feeling the large body relax under his attention. 

“You know, when I was younger, my Ma was the only one who used to hug me,' Steve said softly, surprising Bucky with the confession, 'She’d hold me when I fell over and hurt myself, when I was sick, which was more often than not, those days. Sometimes we’d dance around the apartment listening to the neighbours wireless.’ His small smile slowly dropped away, “and when she fell ill, and was so tired she couldn’t get up off the couch after working in the hospital, I’d lean into her. Offer comfort where I could. I'll always remember her touch, how it felt like home, how it felt right.”

Bucky didn’t answer, caught up in the rare insight into Steve's past. The love in his voice as he spoke of Sarah, the way he was now sharing this piece of himself with Bucky - wrapped around him as he was, felt more intimate than anything they'd shared so far.

“I haven’t felt comfort like that in too many years, a lifetime even. Not until you." Bucky felt Steve swallow tightly against his leg, "you're my home, Buck, have been for so long now."

"Stevie," Bucky breathed out, emotion riding the one word, not in a million years could he articulate what Steve’s quiet trust meant to him, but he could show him. "Move over."

Steve complied immediately, and when Bucky slid down to lay next to Steve, face-to-face, sharks forgotten, Bucky saw the softness behind his eyes, the love and another lone residual flicker of doubt was extinguished. 

Bucky wound his hand behind Steve's neck and pulled him into a kiss, so terribly gentle, and when he leaned back, the dazed look in Steve's eyes tripped his heart.

"Thank you." Bucky whispered into the space between them.

"For what?"

"For everything. For letting me in, choosing me, opening up. God, I don't want to imagine a future where I wasn't running late that day, didn't get on that particular elevator. If I was even three seconds later or earlier -"

Steve shushed his litany of words with a quick hard kiss. Gounding his thoughts.

"But you did, and we met. I mean let's be honest, you said you loved me from the first moment we met, so I _knew_ this is where we'd end up."

"Liar," Bucky retorted, still suffering second hand embarrassment from their original meeting, and let out a rueful chuckle. "I was such an idiot."

"And I couldn't be happier," Steve grinned, and ducked from Bucky's slap on his arm, " _because_ , if you weren't, I wouldn't have had the courage to speak to the most mesmerising, gorgeous man I'd ever seen, whose teasing slate blue eyes made it impossible to look away."

"So idiots are a turn on? I feel I should be offended. Does that mean you like Tony too then? That’s a lot to take in, I mean he’s… Tony..."

Steve laughed, the sound starting deep in his chest and Bucky knew he could listen to the rumble constantly, the comfort he exuded around Bucky now uninhibited in a way it had never been before. Every _single_ thing was different, yet _exactly_ the same - every press of skin heightened, every kiss an explosion of sensations, all made more acute due to the longing they’d finally resolved. Though Bucky had a feeling he'd be longing for Steve for the next forty years. Reciprocated feelings or not, he still wanted to pinch himself.

“Well, if we’re being completely honest, I’m probably the biggest idiot between the two of us.”

“Not going to disagree there, pal, but why’s that?” Bucky baited, voice hitching as Steve nuzzled his neck, biting the smallest nips to the exposed skin.

“Somehow creating an overly elaborate fake-dating scheme, instead of just asking you out like a well adjusted adult.”

“Oh that.” Bucky replied, his own hands roaming over Steve’s back, pulling him closer so he'd have a better angle to attack the sensitive jut of Bucky's collarbone. “To be fair, I’d lie as well, just to get Tony off my back.”

“Touche. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to avoid aspects of his brand of… intense friendship. But I was a fool to even think I wouldn’t fall for you. There were so many times I wanted to ask you out for real… tell the truth.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Bucky asked, genuinely curious, heart rate increasing at the way Steve rattled off those words. Like it wasn’t a big deal, that it was a given. That Captain America would clearly find himself enamoured with an ex-army sergeant turned businessman, that Steve Rogers would fall for Bucky Barnes. It was almost too crazy to contemplate. But here they were.

The pressure on his neck stopped as Steve leant back to look into his eyes, taking a deep breath first. 

“I didn’t want to lose what we had, as stupid as that sounds. So many times I _thought_ you felt the same way, but I could never tell with confidence, after all I asked you to pretend.”

He paused a second, gathering his thoughts and Bucky stayed silent, wanting to burst out that he’d felt the same, exactly.

“But more than that, you never once pressured me to give you more, you let me discover everything at my own pace. I’d never had that before, being able to search for who I was, not with the safety of someone steady, someone real at my side. And even though our relationship _wasn’t_ real, you were the closest I’d ever got to true comfort, to being myself. You broke my walls down, Bucky, all of them. So, yeah, the risk of losing you was too great.”

Bucky once again lost his ability to articulate, unsure how to respond to Steve, if he even _could_. The earnest words flayed Bucky’s heart wide open, exposing it, but not to pain or regret, but for Steve to further insinuate himself within it, burrowing deep, until Bucky’s heart only beat for the man before him. 

He tilted Steve’s chin up and kissed his lips softly, pressing them together for the longest moment, conveying how he felt through the action alone. Neither deepened the kiss, and when Bucky allowed a small gap, Steve didn’t chase him. “Essentially what we’re saying is that we were too scared to lose each other, so we said nothing and suffered in silence for months?”

“I guess so,” Steve chuckled, eyes holding Bucky’s steadily, his future shining from the depths. 

“Do you think our idiocy cancels the other out?”

“Perhaps,” Steve said with a grin.

“Regardless, I still think we need to send Pepper a thankyou basket of fruit or something, if she hadn’t taken a chance on my company, on me, I wouldn’t have had a reason to be at the Tower that day.”

“Well,” Steve said, placing a small kiss to Bucky's nose which shouldn't have been adorable but somehow was, “I’d like to think that even if we didn't meet in that elevator, I'm certain we would have found each other, somehow. _This_ , this right here was meant to be."

It took Bucky three goes to get his words out.

"I've already told you, I love you, right?" Bucky husked finally, feeling like a damn teenager, welling up with overwhelming emotions he didn't know what to do with.

Steve's unguarded and gorgeous returning smile didn't help Bucky with trying to hold back anything. "Yeah, you've mentioned it once or twice, but, sweetheart, I never _not_ want to hear those words. And for the record, I'm never going to _stop_ telling you how much I love you either. Because I do, so damn much it’s almost painful."

"Jesus," Bucky breathed, and couldn't take it anymore. It was too intense, in the best way, but he was crawling out of his skin and he needed to dissipate the tension, before he made a fool out of himself and burst into happy tears.

So he slid his hands into Steve's hair, tugging to gain access to his neck and began to suck kisses up the column of skin, reciprocating, feeling Steve shiver under his lips.

“God, I’m glad I helped you pick out this freaking huge sofa,” Bucky rasped against the stubble of Steve’s cheek as he devoured his lips again in an open mouthed kiss, moaning needily, writhing against Steve’s side, wanting friction, needing Steve’s large hands on him again. It had only been about an hour since their last round, and it felt like a lifetime.

Addiction didn’t even start to cover the way Bucky craved every inch of Steve.

“My top priority was definitely fitting the both of us when sofa shopping. Why do you think I took you with me? Had to visually size us up.” Steve laughed as the words sunk in, leaving a trail of satisfaction through Bucky at the knowledge Steve had wanted him so much, even back then and before he could even form another word, large arms spun him until he landed on his stomach.

Steve’s heavy weight pinned him to the couch, hands running up Bucky’s side under his t-shirt, fingers brushing bare skin, and Bucky shivered, anticipation sliding through his body like hot lava, slow and burning everything in its path. Then Steve’s lips pressed against his spot on the back of Bucky’s neck, tongue flicking out, creating shudders and a long drawn out groan.

Steve’s husky voice filled his hearing, a direct line between the low cadence and his dick.

“Remember at the cabin when I had you held tight against me on the day bed?”

How could Bucky forget, it was burned into his brain as the hottest hand job he’d ever received.

“Yeah.” He managed breathlessly, the only sound he could get out with Steve pushing him so forcefully into the sofa, positioning him, readying him.

“The way you gave complete authority over to me. The way you melted into my body, letting me jerk you off you when anyone could have come past. And you came so prettily for me, and I knew right in that second I’d never be able to let you go.”

“Jesus, you can’t just say stuff like that unless you’re _trying_ to ruin me? Are you telling me you fell in love with my superior tendency to give up control to big beefy men?” He tried for a light joking tone, it came out more like a breathless question.

“Oh no. I was feeling it much sooner, just didn't know what to call it back then. Plus not _any_ big beefy man, just me...”

“Fuck…” Bucky gasped out as Steve drew his sweats down over his ass, ripping them from his body until his lower half was naked and on display. He wriggled, but instead of Steve coming back up to whisper sweet and hot things into his ear again, Bucky felt his cheeks being pulled gently apart. He flamed in embarrassment at the sheer intimacy of the position, trying to move, to escape without actually wanting to. He had to learn to _own_ his disgrace.

“Don't ever be shy, baby. You’ve the sweetest hole I've ever seen, I _love_ your ass under my tongue, my fingers, my dick. It was made for me.”

Bucky groaned into the sofa, shutting his eyes against the absolute pure filth that Steve had just uttered, he had no idea where Steve usually hid his depraved dirty talk, but honestly, Bucky didn’t care at all. It was hot. Even more so as he didn’t do it often, Bucky never knew when he’d get to hear Steve so downright in the moment, murmuring nasty words.

“Yours, it’s all yours.” He whimpered as Steve’s thick fingers started to tease the already loose rim. They’d been at it for hours and Bucky was practically ready for anything. 

“Oh I know, sweetheart.”

Bucky sucked in a breath at the sheer unapologetic ownership in Steve’s voice, “Seriously, you're killing me here. Please do something, anything.”

“Well since you asked nicely,” the flat press of Steve’s tongue directly over his hole was unexpected as much as it was expected, and Bucky immediately cried out before burying his head into the cushions as Steve started to lick and explore further, and he realised as he gasped and ended up tasting the sofa, he was the very definition of a pillow biter.

The scratch of Steve’s beard, burned perfectly against the skin of his thighs when Steve pushed in impossibly further and Bucky gasped as Steve worked his mouth, making the hair tickle in a maddening way. He was so sensitive, keyed up, Steve’s tongue lapping, exploring every single space it could reach. Bucky was glad he’d put a rug down, dick already weeping all over the softness under him.

“Christ, your stubble…”

The hum from behind him along with the loud slurping noise made his stomach quiver, it was too much, he loved being eaten so thoroughly, and Steve treated his ass like it was the best tasting delicacy in the world, but it was also confronting, though he wasn’t going to stop him, not when Steve seemed to get off on making Bucky writhe, and writhe he did.

“Too scratchy, want me to stop?” Steve’s voice was deeper than he’d ever heard it, before nuzzling back in, kissing the loose ring of muscle, flicking his tongue out.

“No… oh, god, umm. No don’t stop. But it’s going to leave marks.”

At those words Steve growled and doubled down, and the exquisite agony of being filled with Steve’s tongue as he purposely scratched his face against his skin was something so precise, so very deliberately done. And Bucky knew Steve was thinking up ways to absolutely shatter him.

But two could play that game.

“Mark me up, Stevie, make it so I know you’ve been between my thighs.”

And Bucky may as well have issued a challenge, a duel between them, because within minutes he’d lost all higher function. Steve so intent on making Bucky scream out, to make him come on his mouth alone, that each movement, that each swipe of his wet tongue dismantled another brain cell, loosening it to clatter throughout his head. He could only feel, everything was focussed on one part of his body and he wept, cried out for release, yet Steve would not give it to him.

He was pulled up onto shaky knees, exposing himself even further and thick fingers slid in easily beside Steve’s questing, curious tongue.

Time lost all meaning, his grunts and pleading ignored as Steve took control of his body, his pleasure, and when Steve finally pushed his dick deep into Bucky’s ass, not even remembering or feeling the slathering of lube he lost control of all autonomous movement. Steve pounded into him relentlessly, his body boneless, knowing that with Steve’s stamina, and lack of release, he could be railed into any surface for days on end. His hands screwed up into the blanket, gripping tight, needing to hold on to something real, something physical in the room, else he would float off, never to be seen again. 

But Steve had him, always had him, and Bucky was suddenly yanked up against his muscular body, gripped in place with a carefully placed hand under his neck, fingers splayed over his jaw. He lost it, vision blurring as Steve slammed into him, holding him in place, not allowing him to fail in this. Steve gave Bucky all the pleasure, calling him sweetheart, telling him in stuttered thrusts, in punched out words, how beautiful he was, how well he took Steve’s dick, that he was Steve’s everything, that Steve loved him desperately, always would. He took comfort in the whispered words and phrases, knowing that even though he couldn’t speak, throat too raw from crying out, that Steve knew. Knew Bucky returned his sentiments. Always.

When Steve’s huge palm gripped his throbbing dick, tugging roughly, Bucky lost all coherency, losing his entire essence as he orgasmed, twitching uncontrollably, writhing without knowing if he could ever stop. Everything faded beautifully as he cried out in rapture.

Soft lips against his temple, the first thing Bucky recognised as he came out of his stupor, blinking into the light, noticing he was bundled up, cleaned off, but still naked. He was carefully positioned across Steve’s lap as the huge man reclined back on the sofa, his head nestled up against Steve’s broad shoulder. Sighing deeply, the arms that wrapped him up tightened and the undeniable smell of sex hung in the air, but it was the extraordinary scent of Steve underneath him that made Bucky relax further.

“There you are, baby, you feeling okay?” The smile in Steve’s voice, quiet and full of warmth.

Bucky nuzzled in closer, “better than okay, you know you’ve wrecked me, I’m no good to anyone else.”

“Good,” Steve replied and tilted his chin up and gave him a chaste kiss, “you’re mine now, not ever going to let you go.”

Bucky melted, officially losing every ounce of residual trepidation, of fear, giving himself completely over to Steve and he could tell by the small ‘ _oh_ ’ Steve had realised it too, crashing his lips back to kiss him, to steal his breath.

After a few moments of silence while Steve held him lovingly, with a grip which brokered no room for misunderstanding, Bucky, full to the brim with joy, couldn’t help checking in.

“Hey, I know it won’t happen often and that yesterday was exceptional in the build up from the last month or two, but are you okay with that?” At the look in Steve’s eyes he quickly added. “I mean I’m _more_ than fine with everything, practically living in orgasm city and happier than you could ever imagine, but I wanted to make sure you’re still okay. That it’s enough?”

The emotion in Steve’s eyes was immeasurable, and he closed them against Bucky for the longest moment, gathering his thoughts, jaw moving in small almost invisible clicks as he worked himself up to words. 

“Bucky, yes, yes it’s enough, like you wouldn’t believe. I.. you’re the only person in the world who’s ever made me… well, let’s just say I’m not giving this up for all eternity. And no I won’t orgasm every time, I’m happy not to, I want to make _you_ feel good every single time, and believe me - I get so much pleasure from all of this.” Steve gave a small satisfied smirk which went straight to Bucky’s dick, “But I do know that if we want to try, it _can_ happen under the right circumstances.”

Steve came to a pause and something niggled at Bucky, something in his words, and then it hit him, the burning question shocked out of him.

“Wait, are you saying I’m the _only_ person you’ve ever orgasmed with? That can’t be right, can it? What about before the serum?”

Bucky watched in interest as Steve’s cheeks tinged pink and he couldn’t help wonder at it. This perfect man could dirty talk like a champ, stick his tongue in unmentionable places, pull Bucky’s strings like a puppet master and blushed like a virgin at a question about himself, pre-serum. It was adorable. Bucky quickly kissed the jut of Steve’s chin.

“Long story short, back before the war, actually I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures and read the stories and -”

“- I want to hear it from you,” Bucky interrupted and the absolute look of gratefulness on Steve’s face, worth his interjection. Did people not allow Steve a voice to tell his own story? Did they presume to know the enigmatic, complicated man before him? Steve was not just a national hero to faun over, he was a person. And Bucky would always treat him as such.

“Before the serum, I was sick, Buck, really sick all the time and I wasn’t supposed to reach adulthood, but against all the advice of Doctors, Ma made sure I did.” Steve went quiet for a moment and Bucky leant into him harder, offering his warmth and comfort. “I wasn’t date material, a prospect, I couldn’t provide for a family and even though I could have… well, paid for it,” Steve ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, “I didn’t really want that, it was, I guess, embarrassing for me.”

Bucky listened intently to Steve’s words, waiting for him to continue with bated breath, adoring the fact he was sharing, being himself, comfortable in it, even if anger that people overlooked Steve bubbled inside of him.

Giving a rueful chuckle, Steve kept talking, “let’s be honest though, I did come a lot, from my own hand, it was easy, quick and I always thought I’d get there eventually with another person.” Steve lowered his eyes, and Bucky felt a pulse thump inside of him as they slowly lifted up to claim Bucky’s, “I eventually did, just... in another lifetime.”

A wave of love crashed over Bucky, drowning him as he stared into such deep blue eyes, hearing Steve’s words, knowing that it was he, Bucky alone, in this wonderful, brave, famous man’s life who gave him something no one else ever had. It was his to keep, and he would treasure it for a lifetime.

“I’m not going to lie, I did read books about you, mandatory in school. But I always thought you were gorgeous Steve, your eyes drew me in, sharp, full of wit and smarts and given a chance I’d love on him too, I do love on him, because - that’s still you. You may have changed size but you are the same person as back then, just with a few different experiences under his belt.”

Steve visibly shook at his words, before he kissed Bucky’s forehead, and something proud and passionate flashed in his eyes.

“Christ I love you, your absolute faith in me. You’re so good for me, the best.” Bucky felt something loose inside of him at Steve’s praise, he could bask in it forever, might actually have the chance.

“That’s all I ever want to be for you.” Bucky said as he grabbed Steve’s face between his hands, pulling him in for a deep consuming kiss, before whispering fiercely against his pink lips, “well I hope you’re okay with just having one person for the rest of your life from here on out.” 

The huff of breath and the pure wonderous look on Steve’s face erased any residual worry that the words might have been too much.

“More than happy, delighted even.” Steve whispered, gripping him tightly.

“Thanks for sharing your past. I know it’s not easy.”

“Everything is easy with you, Buck. And I want you to know me, all of me, and I love that you allow me to tell my tale, not go barreling ahead to believe the things you may have already read.”

“I’ll always hear your stories Steve, from you, nowhere else,” and kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth, Bucky settled comfortably on his lap, enjoying the feel of Steve’s palm slowly rubbing his back in small circles and he felt himself start to doze.

“I _am_ sorry for one thing though.” Steve’s voice shook him from his relaxed state.

“Yeah what’s that?” Bucky said sleepily, eyeing the clock and knowing he had at least two hours to nap before Darcy arrived.

“You’re going to be so very sore at dinner tonight.”

“You don’t sound sorry at all,” Bucky retorted, loving the small embarrassed dip of Steve’s head, he clearly loved knowing Bucky was going to feel him inside of his body all night in the form of a delicious ache.

“I’m not going to lie, I love you like this, all soft and mine.”

“Stevie, I was always yours.” The smile he received for his words, worth every second of discomfort he might suffer later on. “Now let me nap for a bit.”

Steve wrapped a clean blanket up over his body, but didn’t let Bucky move onto the cushions of the sofa, just continued to hold him, but he could work with that. Steve had a large comfortable lap and his chest as a pillow was more than alright. He could definitely get used to Steve’s undivided attention.

Darcy arrived with a flourish and a bag which he hoped contained one of his nicer suits, not one he’d wear to work either, as he had an inkling something was happening that would require a dress code higher than usual. But it was the excitement shining in Darcy’s eyes as he opened the door to her, which made him smile broadly.

“Natasha told you, didn’t she?”

“Told me what, best friend who’s supposed to let me know any life altering information first before anyone else?”

Bucky pulled her in for an unyielding embrace, and when Darcy didn’t loosen her grip, he settled into it, holding her in Steve’s open doorway, the suit bag having fallen to the floor, but he didn’t care. He was ecstatic and joy bubbled through him, and he now had his best friend at his side. As much as she frazzled him to the ends of the earth, Darcy was one of the most important people in his life.

“I’m so happy,” he whispered into her hair and she squeezed tighter.

“I know, babe,” she replied, voice rich with pride. “Took you long enough though.”

Bucky finally pulled back to look at her, “really, that’s what you’ve got for me, an ‘I told you so’?”

“Damn straight, I was right the whole time and you ignored me - I’m furious.” But her smile indicated she’d not really meant it, although, knowing Darcy, she would still remind him eighty times a week for their rest of their lives that she’d been right.

“You look amazing.” Bucky settled on as he took in her appearance, the dress and heels she wore, more flashy than her usual jeans and t-shirts, “mustard is such a good colour on you.”

“I know,” she said simply and breezed past him, leaving his suit on the floor where she’d dropped it, he chuckled, picking it up and followed her into Steve’s apartment.

“He’s in the shower.” He told her at the questioning quirk of her brow.

“So all of that muscle... is wet, soapy, naked and begging to be touched and you’re out here with me - because?”

“Because I’m polite, and I don’t need you walking in on us having sex.”

“But that’s why I came early,” she pouted, then gave him a smirk, adjusting her hair, “but speaking of - I haven’t wrecked my hair have I? Natasha may have… well, let’s just say my knees are still a little wobbly after being pinned to her wall ten minutes ago.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “too much information, but your hair is perfect and that explains the glow in your cheeks. And here I was thinking it was happiness for me.”

Darcy batted his shoulder, but her smile made Bucky warm inside, she too was in a good place, content and happy with Natasha, and although Natasha still scared the bejesus out of him along with equal parts awe, he only wished them the best.

“Wine?”

“Are we pre-loading?” Darcy asked, rubbing her hands together while Bucky grabbed two tall stemmed glasses from Steve’s cupboard, then selected the wine from the fridge. He couldn’t help laugh at her excitement.

“No, we aren’t in college anymore, and I’m not turning up to see the entire back catalogue of the Avengers completely off-my-head.”

“Damn, just think of how much fun it would be though. I know that Scott and Clint would love it, would probably be annoyed we didn't invite them here first. Should we call them?” Darcy cajoled, with no real intent behind it, while Bucky popped the top off the bottle of the sparkling white he'd grabbed.

"When did you get buddy-buddy with the extended team?" Bucky asked, curiosity tinging his voice as he poured.

"Clint and Nat are tight, and Scott’s been a disaster since he got out of jail, so with Hope’s help we've all been coaching him in different aspects of life."

"Oh god, what the hell kind of knowledge are you imparting on him? How to flip the bird while driving with your knees? Oh no, maybe, the incorrect ratio of jelly to peanut butter on a PB&J sandwich."

"Don't you be attacking me for my superior spreading ability and there is nothing wrong with my ratios. You're just a picky bitch. And for your information I'm teaching Scott how to bake."

"Huh," Bucky replied thoughtfully, "that's not too bad actually, I mean you can't make a souffle to save your life, but your cupcakes are divine, I'll admit that."

"Oh, you'll admit that," Darcy mimicked, "just give me my glass, you loser."

They grinned at each other as Bucky passed over her drink.

“Cheers. Here’s to the two of us hopeless idiots who fell in love with superheros.”

“One idiot, I knew exactly what I was doing.” Darcy amended and they clinked their glasses, sipping at the refreshing bubbles. “Oh, I also grabbed the silk purple tie and dark suit with the cool pattern running through it.”

“Good choice.”

“I know, I picked it out remember?”

Bucky laughed, the inability to forget any of their shopping expeditions a foregone conclusion, as they always ended dressing up in movie montages at some point. It was the best fun. “Maybe, but I’m not giving you all the credit for it.”

“Yeah you will,” she replied and they both walked over to the plate glass window, looking down at the bustle and lights, Darcy leaning into him and he pulled her close.

“You good?” He asked quietly, sincerely.

Understanding they were having a moment, Darcy smiled softly into her glass before taking another sip, arm wrapping around his waist, head resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah, the best.”

Kissing the crown of her hair, mindful of her little squeak that he wasn’t allowed to mess it up any more than it was, he grinned. They’d made it, they’d traversed adulthood and were actually coming out on top. He was thrilled.

“Buck, have you seen my cuff - oh hey, Darcy.” Steve halted in the doorway, and Bucky glanced over his shoulder, mouth immediately going dry. Steve looked edible. Which was stupid, because Bucky had seen Steve naked, wearing loose sweats, jeans and shirts and everything in between; abstractly, he'd glimpsed pictures of him in magazines wearing suits, but never in person. Not like this anyway.

Steve was a vision in a dark blue navy suit, the style and colour so very traditional, but it was the confidence he exuded, the cut of the fabric, the way it hugged every part of Steve to enhance his already enhanced physique. Bucky needed the name of his tailor, if only to kill them for the fitting which would have ensured their hands being placed all over Steve’s body. But he also needed to shower them in glory for the stunning picture Steve projected in their clothing.

Bucky wanted to fall to his knees immediately.

“Jesus, get a room,” Darcy whispered as she threw her head back and finished off her drink.

“We actually have this whole apartment, thank you very much.” Bucky shot back out the corner of his mouth, eyes still on Steve, whose face was starting to tinge at the unflagging stare he was on the receiving end of.

“On that note, hey Steve it was great to see you, I’ll catch you upstairs. Don’t dishevel my boy too much, I want him to be able to string a sentence together later,” and with a wink and the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway, the door snicked shut and Darcy was gone.

Steve looked over to Bucky, a curious expression on his face and Bucky shrugged, draining his glass, “who knows with her. Drink?”

Steve nodded, and Bucky poured out another glass, handing it over with a blatant up and down look, noticing Steve squirm a little under the scrutiny. 

Grabbing the suit bag which was hanging on the back of a stool, Bucky smirked, “ I'd better go get dressed before I drop to my knees and crawl over to you and we end up missing another one of Tony’s get-togethers because I can’t remove my mouth from your dick.”

The words finished on an unintentional husk and the reaction from Steve, perfect; eyes widening, mouth forming words he knew would tell him to drop and crawl, but they couldn’t tarry. They were running out of time and being late two nights in a row wouldn't earn them any favours.

“Later,” Bucky promised as he walked past, and Steve stopped him with a look before grabbing his face in a bruising kiss. When he was released, Bucky gave Steve a hooded stare and cupped him through his pants, “I do have to say that you're looking absolutely delectable though, good enough to eat.”

“Buck…” Steve warned, desire heavy in his voice, “go get ready before I pin you to the wall.”

Gulping, Bucky wanted to stay, be pinned, never leave the room, but he didn’t. Apparently he was growing up and making more adult decisions. He wasn’t sure if he was pleased or mortified he’d chosen responsibility over Steve naked.

When he came back out after his shower, dressed to the nines, hair a floofy artful mess, it was Steve whose steps faltered, hands dropping to his side in awe, and Bucky caught a glimpse of him pinching his palm - to stop himself reaching out. It made Bucky giddy.

“Fuck…” Steve’s voice deep and throaty, “I’m calling Tony, we aren’t going.”

Delighted, Bucky laughed, “yes we are, but luckily, you can look all night knowing that everything under this suit is yours.” He sidled up to Steve, both of their breaths coming in a little harder as Bucky stared into his eyes emboldened, “and when we come home later, you can do anything you want with me. _Anything_.”

Steve swallowed hard and reached out to tug the bright purple tie, reeling Bucky in to capture his lips in a hot wet kiss, “and if tying you up with this gorgeous colour so you can’t touch, can’t move unless I let you, is something I want?”

He tugged again on the soft fabric and Bucky’s head jerked forward, not unkindly but with intent and he knew as he looked up at Steve through his lashes, his eyes were almost all black, could feel the desire and want burning through him for this glorious man, who just _knew_ him.

“Anything,” Bucky ground out, too hard in his pants to go anywhere, but he took a step back, faltering when Steve moved forward, directly into his space again, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

“Oh sweetheart, be careful what you promise to give me.”

Bucky just about came in his pants.

Dinner was quite simply astonishing. The food melted in his mouth, each course more decadent then the last, and as Bucky looked around at the entire Avenger team, he felt at ease, like he had a rightful place at the table, that he belonged. Steve caught his hand out of view of the others, squeezing it, and on his other side he saw Jane’s small secret smile, she’d seen the gesture.

Bucky knew almost everyone seated at the table, those who'd been at the cabin were in attendance, Darcy, obviously, and amongst the old familiar faces was a new one, James Rhodes, Rhodey or War Machine, one of Tony’s closest friends. Judging by how he didn’t put up with any of Tony’s crap, and always responded with quippy one-liners, Bucky knew they'd get along instantly.

As each plate was served, Bucky fell more in love with the chef; the Peruvian cuisine was served as small bites and Bucky had never consumed such mouthwatering dishes that perfectly dissolved on his tongue in explosions of taste and warmth before. The added chili, the correct side of spicy, something celebrated chef’s still, on occasion, couldn’t get correct. And so far the mental list of recipes he needed to try at home were the Ceviche, Seco de Osso Bucco and the Aji de Garbanzos, a delicious chickpea, pumpkin, chives and peanut dish topped with the chef’s own special sauce. He'd have to use his charms in the kitchen to snaffle the recipe from them. 

But adjacent to the truly flavoursome food, was Peppers’ ability to pair wine exquisitely with every mouthful, and with Steve's warmth pressing into his side, the evening was a cacophony of rich sensations. He was well on his way to complete satiation, knowing Steve would conclude the feast with something even more delicious back at the apartment. 

Bucky Barnes was living his absolute best life.

When they'd arrived (on time and only slightly rumpled) most everyone was already seated, and he'd noted they'd separated Darcy and he, and probably with good intent. The two of them together, with unlimited alcohol and good food, would have ended in a raucous tangle of stories, loudness and mock fights. The Avengers might be unique, but no one had the friendship that he and Darcy shared, and he gave Pepper credit with the seating arrangements. Jane was a much more sedate and lovely companion to sit with. Plus she didn’t steal his food.

After the final course had been cleared, Tony announced they were to retire and take port in the drawing room, which meant everyone was to move from the table to the bar area. The pomp and circumstance he exuded, made Bucky curious, and as Bucky trailed everyone, he saw a small table with a large wrapped box on it. What was Tony up to? But after they arrived in the lounge area, standing around chatting with each other, he made no motion to look or even acknowledge the brightly wrapped present.

After a few moments, Scott came around with a bottle to fill their glasses, while Natasha and Darcy created weird and wonderful cocktails in the bar area, Natasha's taking the very nose hairs from him with the strength and abundance of vodka bases. Declining another taste bud destroying beverage in favour of a promised port, he found himself in a conversation with Bruce about his latest research, while Steve chatted with Thor and Pepper on the other side of the room.

Not even half an hour had passed, when Steve’s voice suddenly boomed out over everyone, and a hush fell over the group. Bucky’s eyes snapped to his boyfriend, what on earth was he doing?

“Hey all, look, err,” he paused and caught Bucky’s quizzical look, seemingly to get confidence from finding him in the crowd, he continued on and cleared his throat, trying again. “Without going into too much detail, I just wanted to say, Bucky and I are boyfriends, I mean we are _really_ together… now.”

Bucky wanted to facepalm himself, he was in love with a dork.

“Yeah we knew that, are you forgetting things in your old age?” Tony heckled.

But it wasn’t Tony that Bucky had caught sight of, but Pepper, because as she shushed him, the look on her face was a little _too_ knowing, and when she glanced at Bucky, her face dissolved into an easy blankness, a press conference face - it made him frown. Looking around at the others, he saw most of them with some form of half smiles, or glancing between each other. Not unlike they were all in on a big secret, which wasn’t a secret at all. There was no way...

Steve coughed nervously, and Bucky looked back to him, giving a small encouraging smile. The fact he was nervous in front of his peers, unsure of their reactions was adorable and a revelation on just how much he cared about this large group of individuals.

“What I mean to say, is he’s now _officially_ my boyfriend, I won’t bother you with details but before yesterday we were pretending to be together.”

Tony’s yelp of utter shock and surprise was almost drowned out by the other voices, which Bucky realised a second later were _not_ yelling out in confusion, or with questions, the consensus seemed to be -

“- you all knew? Didn’t you?” Bucky asked as he shook his head in disbelief. Pepper, since she was the closest to him, attempted to look wide-eyed in consternation, then stood up a little straighter and gave him a beguiling smile.

“Uh, we all did actually.”

“I most certainly did _not_ ,” Tony exclaimed, muttering under his breath about lies and deceit and people with trust issues, because he didn't tell 'everyone _everything'._ Tony had no filter, ever.

“All I can say is, thank god you finally got your heads out of your…” Clint trailed off as both Bucky and Steve swung their gaze at him.

“You _knew_ it wasn’t real?” Steve asked incrediously, laughter bubbled up in Bucky's chest, the whole situation ludicrious and borderline stupid, not everyone could have known. _Surely_.

Clint ducked his head in a quick nod, while Tony continued to splutter about the fact that he still _‘did not in fact know’_.

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Thor, who grinned broadly, Scott, who also nodded, Bruce who shrugged and mouthed ‘sorry’. Every single person in the room, bar Tony, knew. Had known the whole time. And although Steve looked shocked and completely confused. Bucky laughed. He laughed loudly and hard, unable to help it.

“Surprise,” Clint finally said with a shake of his head and finger guns for added theatrics.

Then the apologies started, everyone rushing forward towards Steve, clearly seeing he was more upset than Bucky, who honestly didn’t mind, strange and odd as the situation was. He couldn't put real life caveats on these people, they were as far from acting in a normalised adult way, showing behaviours befit their stations as you could get. Nothing was usual and Bucky understood that, finally.

And as each of them admitted they’d known almost immediately, Steve glanced at Bucky over everyones head, a small modicum of shame that he’d not fooled his friends, but they’d fooled each other so thoroughly clearly in his expression. Bucky was still chuckling at it all. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

“Why didn’t anyone say anything?” Steve asked completely bewildered.

“Because I didn’t damn well know.” Tony shouted out, ire deeply rooted in his voice. His expression still showed how betrayed and flustered he was that he didn't _know._

“To be fair Tony, you _are_ a genius - we assumed you’d figured it out. Even Clint did.”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Clint called back to Natasha.

“But not one of you... no-one thought to fucking tell me one of my best friends was pretending to date Bluesteel Barnes over here?”

“Best friend?” Steve started and Tony gave him such a look, it sucked the very words from Steve’s throat and Bucky tilted his head in contemplation. That was a neat trick. 

“Steve... and Bucky,” Pepper started with such a lovely, calming lilt in her voice it was hard to not listen or calm down, “honestly we could all see the sparks, the attraction, the connection you shared, and the consensus was you’d eventually work it out. And you did. Interfering just didn’t seem right, you weren’t ready, that's not to say we wouldn't have stepped in at some stage, but clearly it was unwarranted.”

“I could have been in a dating ménage à trois all this time?” Tony kept going and Bucky only just stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the billionaire. 

“Uh, no Tony,” Bucky interjected, as Tony started to talk about a lot of muscles pressing up on the other, shutting it down before it became too awkward, he was, after all, Bucky's business partner. “I’m going to be brutally honest here and say, no. No, you could not have been.”

Steve finally found his voice, “I second that.”

The dejected and harangued look that was flung their way, had Bucky chuckling, “no offense Tony, you’re definitely… something special. But once I met Steve, that was it for me - no room left in my heart for anyone else.”

The small ‘aw’ from Jane made him grin, but it was the look in Steve’s eyes as he caught Bucky’s that slammed into his chest at a hundred miles an hour. The expression indicated he was utterly floored, staring in abject idolisation, and Bucky and he were suddenly the only two people in the room, as everyone else faded from view in the face of Steve’s intense gaze, the love shining through. _Christ_ , all of it was for him.

“Well, enough about these two who wouldn’t know a good thing if it was dressed in red and gold flying about their heads saving them from aliens.” Tony looked pointedly at Steve then Bucky before taking in a breath, smiling indulgently at Pepper, “the reason we invited you all here tonight for this little get together, is that I have something to ask a select few of you.”

Walking towards the table, Tony grabbed the package, and Bucky watched keenly, beyond curious to know what he had planned, what was inside. Maybe they were all getting season passes to Disneyland.

“As you know, in a few short months I’ll be marrying the love of my life. And no, I can’t marry myself, I’ve checked.” He paused a moment and held out his hand, “Pepper...”

Bucky watched as she practically glided across the room to Tony, and when she reached him, he spun her with a laugh before kissing her.

Tony was an ass, a bit of a douche, but his love for Pepper was pure, and although he joked and made her life a living hell in all aspects of their lives, especially as CEO of Stark Industries, it was clear he would break down worlds to be there for her, to save her, to love her.

He glanced at Steve who smiled at him, and raw tenderness hit him hard at the unguarded love shining back in return, no longer hidden from view but out there for all to see. And Bucky knew that Tony and he shared more traits than he’d first thought. He’d move heaven and earth for Steve if need be.

“Okay, without further adieu, I want to ask a question to three of you. Did that rhyme? It wasn’t supposed to, have I made this weird now?”

“Tony,” Pepper admonished, “Just get on with it, please…”

Giving Pepper a quick meaningful look and a nod, he opened the box with an overt flourish, staring into the small opening for the longest time, before frowning and pulling out a bottle. 

“Huh,” Tony started, “this was supposed to be that rare scotch whiskey from Isle of Skye, but oh well, rose gold flecked lubricant will work just as well.”

Bucky inhaled his tongue and looked to the roof, praying JARVIS wouldn’t announce to the room that it was _his_ shipment of the most expensive lube ever made. He managed to swallow his first panicked reaction which was laughter, but then mortification swamped him. Was JARVIS going to out him?

The AI remained quiet. 

Taking a huge breath in, he strangled out a chuckle, he couldn’t help it, it was absurd, waiting to be outed by a computer program, and Steve gave him a sharp look. Bucky, knowing his eyes sparkled in mirth, shook his head quickly, not able to speak out loud, else erupt in misplaced laughter.

“Rhodey, Bruce and even though I’m currently rethinking my choice, Steve… would you do me the honour of being my three lesser than best, because I _am_ the best... so actually would you all be my semi-best men at our wedding?”

In less than a second, all three of them broke away from the group and ran at Tony, who looked terrified at the huge men barreling down on him, and braced himself. Bucky mildly impressed he’d managed to stay upright when they all collided together in one huge stacks-on pile, and even though Steve looked slightly uncomfortable at joining in with the revelry, he glanced at Bucky grinning, then kind of wrapped his arms around the other men, patting their backs before stepping away. Tony, wide-eyed and clearly glad he’d survived the assault, beamed, then thrust a bottle of lube each at Steve, Bruce and Rhodey.

“Here boys, why don’t you slip into something more comfortable.”

“Really?” Pepper asked Tony disbelievingly, “that was terrible, even for you.”

Glancing down at the bottle in his hand, Steve grinned widely. “Tony, I would love to stand at your side as you marry the incomparable Pepper, but… if we are going for honesty here - I’m going to need more than one bottle of this. Bucky and I go through -”

“- that’s it - give it back, you can’t be my best man.”

It took an hour, but Steve managed to remain one of Tony’s semi-best men (but in third place); and much later in the evening, Bucky was tied up, spread eagle over Steve’s mammoth bed, receiving the sweatiest, hardest fuck in all his life, using the most expensive lube of the century. 

They were giving it a five star rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left to go!
> 
> There's something incredibly wonderful and humbling when someone reaches out to say you’ve done something to inspire them - thank you so much BuckyBarnes8999 for sharing your inspiration with me!! Check it out [ here](https://ibuckybarnes.tumblr.com/post/619435830312861696/i-was-reading-a-fic-on-ao3-where-buckaroo-is-a) , his Bucky is heartbreakingly beautiful!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are… the last chapter. I’m not going to lie - I am a little lost for words. This entire journey has been an absolute joy. Every single one of you who has read along, kudoed, bookmarked and those who commented your hopes, fears and dreams and just general love for these idiots and their miscommunications for my very, very slow burn trope love story has left me a little gobsmacked, (this love extends to my Tumblr and Twitter followers who’ve reached out too)! 
> 
> I have, with no shadow of a lie, adored every one of my interactions with you all so much :)
> 
> Last but not least - Happy Birthday [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) \- without you and your day of birth - this would not exist! Thanks for a two lined prompt that inspired 100k of mayhem and love. I hope you’ve loved your gift ;)
> 
> So - read on, enjoy and I hope you ended up loving these boys just as fiercely as I did <3

Bucky’s legs were splayed out from where he sat on the hard ground, back pressed up against Steve's knees as deft fingers gently massaged Bucky’s shoulders, relaxation immediately flowing down his spine. After three months together (officially) Bucky had almost come to rely on Steve's touch to calm him, unwind his body and mind from the day. He didn't _need_ it, but by god did he _want_ it. 

It helped that Steve was the most attentive partner in the history of partners, and not a day went by when he wasn't loving on Bucky in some way. Even when on stealth operations, the small notes left around Bucky's, no, _their_ apartment for him to find were filled with anecdotes and stories that made his heart swell in fondness and the sense of belonging to someone who cared deeply for him. But it was the written notes containing Steve’s deepest fantasies, fantasies starring Bucky and and some of the filthiest and wildest sex imaginable, that ensured the moment he’d walked in the door after a mission, Steve didn’t even get a moment to breathe. Generally naked and prepared, Bucky was ready to be taken apart immediately. He enjoyed those times immensely. But he also adored the nights where they took their time, when Steve stayed hard all night and after hours of attention, Bucky was spaced out, floating beautifully, sore, pummeled, yet still begging for more.

"How you doing, sweetheart?" Steve whispered in his ear, fingers digging into his muscles just so, eliciting an unbidden moan from Bucky’s throat.

"Hey, enough of that, don't make me get the hose." Darcy yelled from only a yard away.

Bucky chuckled, they were all still buzzed from Tony and Pepper’s wedding and following reception that day. Darcy passed over the bottle of wine she'd stolen from their table as the serving staff politely asked them to vacate the ballroom half an hour earlier. Dawn was nearing after all.

Taking a swig, he offered it to Steve who declined, so Scott, slightly startled by the press of the cool glass on his hand, took it instead.

When they'd arrived back on their floor at the resort, Natasha told them in a conspiratorial tone about a door leading to the roof, which although not purpose built for guests, had plenty of room for a few revellers not ready for bed to sit and wind down. So Bucky along with Steve, Bruce, Hope and Scott met Natasha and Darcy for a nightcap.

The methodic crash of waves from the ocean and the warm lights bathing the pathways meandering through thick green lush plants below, was a perfect backdrop for soft words, and reminiscing on the day.

But it was the brilliant hues of sunlight cresting in the distance that stole Bucky’s breath, rendering him speechless.

Soon everyone fell into silence as orange, reds and yellows cascaded across the horizon, fingers of reaching light stretched into the darkness, and when Steve slid down to bracket him between his thighs to rest his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck, placing a soft kiss on his skin, he melted into the comfort and strength Steve offered. Grasping Steve’s hand he pulled it around him, holding it close to his chest over his heart, before lifting and kissing it, feeling Steve’s breath hitch in his ear. For all of their confessions, and closeness and sharing of thoughts, Steve was still somewhat shocked on occasion, as if he couldn’t believe they had each other, that Bucky chose him.

Bucky would choose Steve every single time.

“Tony sure knew what he was doing when he booked this place,” Bruce said into the silence, breaking the moment, but not completely.

“Sure did,” Hope responded, and smiled softly at Scott as he draped an arm around her, pulling her into his side. All eyes returned to the sunrise.

Tony had spared no expense for his and Pepper's island paradise wedding. And it was worth every penny. 

They’d been there for a few days already, but would be heading back to New York in two days, as they couldn’t leave the city to Daredevil, Jessica and Luke alone, it was too big of an area to cover for so few. But he had relished the time Steve and he had to relax, to be on a getaway in a different country, and was thrilled to note they travelled well together, enough so that he wanted to put forth the idea of backpacking across Europe one day. Images of he and Steve in front of the world’s most iconic sites, sharing stories, kisses, creating a new chapter in their book, filled him with such warmth.

In the meantime though, The Maldives were everything he’d heard about and even more magical in person. Bucky was charmed and elated at the kind and enthusiastic locals they'd met, the temples explored, the food and seeking out of different corners of paradise, all with Steve at his side.

“Favourite part of today?” Hope asked, as they sat in quiet contemplation enjoying the warming of the air around them.

“Dum-E being the ring bearer,” Bucky said quickly, grinning at the memory of the small bowtie and jacket Tony had tailor-made, and the fact he’d brought the machine into the country. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve _had_ been kicked out of the wedding party in favour of his favourite robot. It was a close call if you listened to Tony.

The others chuckled, “Yeah, I’m glad it wasn’t my job to hold those, the insurance alone on them staggered me,” Bruce remarked, and Steve murmured in agreement.

“I don’t know, I liked their first dance. Still can’t believe Pepper agreed to let Tony do a solo.”

“Judging by her face as AC/DC started, I don’t think she knew,” Natasha chuckled to Darcy, “But kudos to her, she went with it. I don’t know how she does it. Puts up with him, I mean.”

Bucky smiled thoughtfully, then surprised himself as words started to flow, “Honestly, I think they’re good for each other. Tony is so extra and overt and over the top, and Pepper, well she doesn’t just ground him, but she lets him be who he is, allows him to be free and make his own ridiculous mistakes, but is always a support, will step up when he is being reckless and take him down a notch. But you know what?” Bucky paused and realised everyone’s attention was honed in on him, _oh_. “He does the same in return, he doesn’t expect Pepper to change for him, they found a way to work together and he brings out her fun and silly side and I think that’s beautiful. They were meant to be.”

Everyone remained silent for a moment, and Steve hugged him so hard he thought his spine would pop, realising a second later he’d reacted so viscerally to his words, as they could almost have been about them. Maybe parts of it were. 

“That’s beautiful, Buck.” Darcy finally said, “Maybe _you_ should have written his wedding speech instead.”

The resounding groan that went through the group elicited a smattering of laughter in return.

“Yeah, maybe bringing up Pepper throwing out his one-night stands before they were dating was something that didn’t need to be said, and the whole thinking of her while being tortured, was a nice sentiment, but he didn’t really read the room did he?” Scott chuckled, and they went quiet, until Steve giggled, actually giggled.

Looking over his shoulder with a quirk of his brow, because Steve was not a giggler, he asked, “what is it?”

“I was just thinking about Tony's expression when Pepper smooshed the cake in his face when they cut it. Priceless."

The resulting laughter was comforting, and it was clear everyone was relaxed after such a hectic day, that they all enjoyed each other’s company. It was lovely. Silence fell as the sun became fully visible in the sky, the heat emanating from it almost immediate. The humidity was meant to be worse that day, and Bucky knew he’d spend it wet and sweaty, hopefully for reasons other than just the weather.

"Well that's me done, time for sleep," Bruce declared as he stood up, everyone following suit except Steve, who held Bucky in place, who had no choice but to also remain seated.

"Night all. Oh, I guess morning actually. Scuba diving later?" Scott questioned the group.

They all agreed on a time, and everyone departed through the door, Bucky ignoring Darcy's knowing look. He wanted to shoot back not everything was about sex, but as soon as they’d all left, Steve had undone the button of his suit pants and his hand was snaking in. _Well then._

“God, I have wanted to do this all day,” Steve husked into his neck, nipping and lathing his tongue over the skin in a madenning dance, all to rile Bucky up into a writhing mess. A state he was extremely familiar with. A state he could quite happily live in for the rest of his days.

The suit was constricting, but Steve’s warm fingers in his underwear gripped him tight, his dick half hard at the sneak attack. He was tired, but in a good place, and leaning back into such a broad familiar chest as Steve spent time touching him, while the rays of sun crept ever so closer to their spot on the rooftop, and the oceans blue began to sparkle, was something special. Something that belonged only to them.

“God, I love your hands on me.” Bucky responded as he stiffened up fully, throbbing, as the sparks of Steve taking control hit him low in the gut.

“I know,” Steve whispered, then tugged on Bucky’s ear with his teeth, eliciting a wanton growl from his throat. “Mine?”

Bucky shivered, he loved it when Steve became possessive, needing to hear that Bucky was his and his only. It happened more often than not when they’d been in company for long stretches, when they’d had to share too much space and time with other people. It was Steve’s way to check in, make sure Bucky knew he was taken care of, wanted - loved.

“Yours, always,” he responded as Steve quickened the pace of his jerking, growling softly into his shoulder. Bucky felt Steve deliciously hard against his back, and he slid a hand behind and between them to cup Steve, to unzip and hold him, feel him grow. He adored that Steve didn’t hesitate, just moved his hips forward to give Bucky the space he needed. 

Steve trusted him completely with his body now, there were no more questioning looks, no hidden longing to be touched, because Bucky could, anytime. Steve encouraged the exploration of his body, gladly finding out what he liked, which was most everything. He’d still not come again since the first time, but neither of them dwelled on it, although Bucky was always watchful on how Steve reacted to things. It had been three months of careful build-up and he had an inkling by Steve’s recent desperation to get him naked - it couldn’t be too far away. It filled him with renewed vigour.

Bucky leant back tilting his head toward Steve who captured his lips immediately in a kiss so chaste and sweet, considering where their hands were and the actions they were performing and he squeezed Steve’s dick a little tighter than normal, and he shook against him in response. Perfect.

Dislodging Steve’s hands from his pants with a small noise of protest from the large man, Bucky spun around and straddled him, knees hitting the hard surface of the roof. Steve’s face was in shadow as the sun beamed down behind Bucky, heating his back, and he smiled, leaning in for a longer, more intense kiss, tongue delving into Steve’s mouth, taking what he wanted, and Steve felt the shift immediately, letting Bucky take over. He wasn’t a fool, he knew Steve would be back in control momentarily, but he also loved these periods where he could make Steve feel good, and he’d take it - no questions asked.

“You feel so amazing on my lap, hard and wanting it bad.” Steve husked out as Bucky slid forward to try and grasp them in hand together, but their suits were making it almost impossible, so he had to concede his original plan by grinding against Steve with his dick _and_ hand together, it was working for the most part, both panting in seconds.

Bucky loved this, being on Steve, seeing his hooded eyes as mere slits, the blue so fierce and shining love, all for him. He grunted as he slid roughly against Steve’s exposed zipper, the sharp friction making him lose his pacing a second, and Steve’s indulgent smile, as if he were letting Bucky play for a moment and that his attempts were endearing, made him squirm even further. Steve had never made Bucky feel anything except completely breathtaking in bed, but he also liked to play, to tease him, and lately Steve had been laying back, telling Bucky to _take_ his own pleasure, to _use_ Steve and his body to get himself off. It was confronting at first, but god, did it get Bucky hard.

A loud noise, just below them on a balcony, ripped Bucky from thoughts of riding Steve right there on the rooftop in full sunlight where anyone really looking could see them, but he also didn’t want to disrespect any staff who might come across them.

“Inside?” He questioned as he rubbed himself even firmer over Steve, whose eyes fluttered shut, jerking up to meet him, the pressure sending shockwaves through Bucky. Yeah, they needed to go inside, he wanted Steve too much, needed him naked, to place his mouth everywhere.

Stunned out of the moment by the words, Steve’s eyes opened and caught Bucky’s and the out-of-it expression struck him - today could be the day. Grasping Steve’s hand, he tugged them up, gripping the back of Steve’s neck, dragging him into a filthy hot openmouthed kiss, frantic and deep.

“Christ, I want you so much right now,” Steve hissed out when Bucky released his mouth, then pushed his hands into Steve’s underwear once more to wrap his fingers around him, slowly pumping. “You've been driving me crazy for weeks.”

Something in Steve’s voice made Bucky halt for a second, and excitement and anticipation zinged up his spine, “hold up, Stevie. Does that mean?”

Steve ducked his head and looked sheepish for a moment. “We can try? If you want?”

“Fucking hell, _if_ I want - yes, I want, so damn much. Inside now.”

He wasn’t certain that Steve didn’t have superspeed by how quickly they were back in their huge decadent room, then naked and in the shower.

Steve’s touch had a modicum of franticness to it, his hands moving everywhere quickly, unable to slow down, to take his time, and Bucky thrummed with pleasure, with the knowledge that Steve _might_ come again, and this time he wanted to try something a little different. If Steve let him. But first, he had to get Steve closer, close enough to straddle the edge of pleasure and need, to get him ready to tip over the precipice. 

They had taken to leaving lube in the shower, not the expensive stuff, but they played often under the hot stream of water, Steve loving nothing more than cleaning every inch of Bucky, preparing him, opening him up. And Steve was not failing in his duties, no matter how excited he was in that moment. He was two fingers deep, pace brutal as the tips hit the spot which punched cries from Bucky’s chest, rubbing as they moved and Bucky had to remind himself that Steve needed attention too, but he was only human and what was one orgasm before things became too loose?

“You ready for me, baby?” Steve growled, half out of his mind and Bucky nodded back, almost always ready for Steve, his body not having much time to retract to its natural state before being used so thoroughly again. He fucking loved it.

He was tugged backwards, the twin rain heads cascading water over them in an unrelenting downpour and suddenly he was sitting on Steve’s lap, back flush with his massive chest. The shower probably his favourite part of their room, it was huge, with a bench seat you could relax under the spray on, or be screwed six ways from Sunday. He knew which option he’d choose every time, and absently wondered about renovating his shower to incorporate a bench. It had many valuable applications.

Panting into his ear, Steve once again tugged on it, and Bucky arched up as Steve’s hand landed on his dick, pumping with intent. He was going to come soon, and Steve hadn’t even pushed inside him. Wriggling as he gasped out, the dark chuckle from behind him filled him with desire. Steve was too much.

“What are you wanting?”

“Steve… oh, god.. that feels - I need… I need...”

“Hmmm, need what exactly, sweet thing?”

And Bucky whined, he actually whined at the endearment, Steve had been using them more, testing them and Bucky loved each and every one.

“You, in me - please, fuck me… hard…”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Then Bucky was full, impaled on Steve’s fat dick, the stretch impossible and his toes curled on the tiles, trying to find purchase as he cried out. Nothing could ever come close to having Steve inside of him, touching him more intimately than anyone else in the world, and Steve had to know that he owned Bucky. Heart, body and soul.

He was pulled roughly back, Steve leaning into the wall, and Bucky’s feet only _just_ touched the ground, but then Steve yanked his legs up by the thighs, pulling them apart, holding onto him under the knees, exposing him completely to the room, to the heat, to the water hitting his body, his chest, his hole which Steve slid in and out smoothly from.

Bucky was at Steve’s complete mercy, he couldn’t grasp anything to steady himself, just had to trust he’d be taken care of, that he would be safe. He knew he was, so he allowed himself to cry out as Steve thrust up into him.

“Harder...” he moaned, not recognising the husk in his voice, he was already so out of it, and he had to hold it together, just a little longer. Until he could give Steve what he needed.

The angle shifted and suddenly Bucky couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but be used by Steve, the grunts in his ear as Steve leant forward to bite at his neck, slamming relentlessly deep into his body until Bucky saw stars. His thighs trembled from the force and the buildup and then it hit unexpectedly, he came all over himself, the water swirling it away as quick as it was released from his body. 

Steve continued to jack up into him, his breaths and wrecked moans coming quicker, and Bucky unbelievingly came back into himself trembling but aware, knowing immediately Steve wouldn’t orgasmn in this position. He had to move them to the bed to get what he wanted.

“Stevie?” God, was that his voice sounding so debauched?

“Yeah baby?” Steve asked as he slid in and out at a more sedate pace, letting Bucky’s legs down, the tingling in them from the held position nice, waking him up more from his sex stupor.

“Bed please.”

“Of course,” Steve stood them up, slipping from him and Bucky felt the loss keenly, but was also aware he could have it fill him anytime, Steve’s dick was his now and he’d never have to go wanting again. Steve then washed them down quickly, soaping each other up and cleaning quickly and methodically, making Bucky smile softly at the care he always showed.

“I love you so much,” he said as Steve knelt at his feet, hands rubbing his shins then over his knees and up.

The returning smile blinding, and standing up Steve leaned in and kissed Bucky deeply, hands cupping his face sweetly.

“Not as much as I love you,” he responded with a cheeky grin.

“Not a competition,” Bucky chuckled, having had to remind him too many times already. Steve was an adorable dork.

They were soon on the bed, semi-dried and when Steve went to curl up behind him to tug him into a cuddle, Bucky halted him and grabbed the lube.

“Nu-uh, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Steve’s expression went from surprised to heated in a second, “Yeah, what do you have planned?”

Bucky maneuvered himself into a position without speaking, laying on his back, up on his elbows and motioned Steve forward. Frowning down at him, Steve walked over on his knees, and stopped, questions in his eyes and Bucky melted, _bless this man._

“Place your knee here,” Bucky indicated next to his shoulder, “and now put your foot over the other side and lean into it.”

Steve’s eyes widened with comprehension of the exposed positioning and Bucky smirked. It was perfect for Steve’s dick to slide between his lips yet leave Steve with the perfect leverage to thrust as hard and deep as he wanted to. But for Bucky it exposed Steve to him, to be able to play, touch and hopefully it would end up with Bucky drowning in Steve’s release. What a way to go.

The first lick of Steve’s dick was always a rush, the small choked out sound from above him revealing more about Steve’s desires than words ever could. And Bucky loved sucking it down as far as he could go, and in this position, he knew he’d be able to swallow more than usual.

Soon Steve’s hips began to lazily pulse, back and forward and Bucky opened up wider, letting Steve dictate the pace for the moment. But it was the punched out little gasps as Bucky curled his tongue around, licking and humming, that indicated Steve would soon be ready for more.

Bucky pulled himself off, looking up at Steve with wide eyes, knowing the shameless picture he presented and grinned, “Baby, can you fuck my face - please?”

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Bucky knew Steve's was begging for it, wanting it wholeheartedly, but there was also a part of him that didn’t want to hurt Bucky, to put him in a position where he _could_ be hurt. Bucky knew Steve too well, knew deep in his bones that Steve could never hurt him. Would stop himself well before that became a thought, an issue.

“Bucky…” Steve trailed off, clearly not wanting to say no, but feeling he should, and the pure black of his eyes told Bucky what he truly thought, what he really craved.

“Steve, I want you to, please, I _need_ you to…”

And whatever expression was showing on Bucky’s face worked, because Steve nodded shakily, fingers cupping Bucky’s cheek, before a digit slid into his mouth, testing. Bucky sucked it without thought and he saw the exact moment that Steve gave up; let his instincts take over, dick soon nudging for entrance beside his finger, which he pulled out to leave a trail of saliva across his cheek. Marking him.

When Steve started to shallowly thrust, Bucky tilted his head slightly to take more and _god_ , it was phenomenal, he’d always enjoyed doing this, the floaty feeling that built as Steve started to go deeper, breathing ragged and slightly on edge. Bucky had a one track mind and he wanted Steve to come down his throat, he _had_ to taste him, it was more important that air, which was a likelihood because Steve filled every inch of space in his mouth. It was gorgeous.

It didn’t take long for Steve to start whispering filthy things, voice losing its strength in places as he rambled constantly, and Bucky only half heard the string of swear words, too busy relaxing his mouth while reaching for the lube. Steve never went too far, too deep but he was big, always had been massive and Bucky knew his jaw was going to ache for days as Steve’s dick slid in and out, jerky and pulsing. He was going to relish the soreness, knowing how it had occurred.

Using his core muscles, Bucky held himself up in position as he grasped the base of Steve’s cock, the part which was _never_ going to make it inside his warmth due to sheer logistics, and pumped quicker, egging Steve on to thrust further, more. He complied beautifully, the gasps coming in swift.

“Oh, god, your mouth… feels so damn good, always feels so damn fucking good…” Steve threw his head back and his hips moved faster, Bucky letting his hand fall back to steady himself on the bed, opening his mouth impossibly more, tears forming, streaming down his face. He was euphoric, knowing Steve was slowly losing control. And he knew he was born to do this, give Steve pleasure, he was certain of it.

It was when his lubed up finger pressed against Steve’s hole, tight, puckered and begging for attention that Steve bellowed out, clenching unconsciously around the tip of Bucky’s questing.

“Shit, yes, do that baby, don’t stop.” Steve cried out, dick twitching and Bucky held back a choke from the motion, not wanting to destroy the moment, half forming a thought that maybe Steve would be interested in switching one time, the idea punched a moan out around his mouthful. That was for later investigation, because the way Steve’s legs were trembling indicated he was close - so close he could sense it.

He pressed in deeper, past the ring of muscle and Steve was so tight, so warm as he thrust in time with Steve’s hips, head even more spaced out as the intensity of the position began to hit him. He slid in a second finger after a moment, and that’s when Steve lost control.

Hands grasped Bucky’s head, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging, making Bucky a boneless mess, and Steve pushed in as deep as he dared, holding him still, hips jerking and Bucky managed to push as deep as he could into Steve, to rub roughly against the smoothness inside, all while his mouth was being pummelled, used.

“Yes...yes… oh… god…” Steve cried out brokenly, Bucky staring up in rapture through tear streaked eyes, vision blurry as they leaked constantly.

And then Steve was coming.

Bucky swallowed what he could, the unique tang indescribable, immediately addicted to the taste, needing it again and again. But Steve didn’t stop coming. Spluttering, it leaked out the sides of Bucky’s mouth, down onto his chest, pooling in the concave of his collarbone and yet Steve was still pulsing deep into his throat. Bucky was in utter and absolute bliss as he let himself be carried off in the moment.

He must have actually spaced out, because he came to, cleaned up and wrapped so impossibly tight in Steve’s embrace he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t care. 

“Stevie?” he tried and coughed at the gravelness, the ache and soreness in his throat, oh it was a delightful feeling.

“Buck?” Steve asked quickly, “Oh thank god, you spaced out completely, have been for about an hour now.”

“An hour?” Bucky asked, not realising he’d been riding a cloud of euphoria for so long. “God, you taste so good.”

Steve chuckled and ducked his head to kiss Bucky’s cheek, “I can’t believe you did that for me - again. You… you’re made for me, you know that right? No one else in the world could ever compare to you.” Steve’s fingers traced a pattern along his hairline, “I still pinch myself I get you. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Bucky basked in the praise and wriggled over to face Steve, smiling sleepily. He’d been awake for over twenty four hours because of the wedding and then being so thoroughly manhandled by Steve, it was finally taking its toll.

“Well I hope not, pal, we’re a forever deal after all,” Bucky said watching through half closed lids as Steve lit up.

Pushing a stray strand of hair off Bucky’s face he leant forward to kiss him softly. “I adore you.”

Feeling his heart flip in his chest at the sincerity, Bucky shut his eyes, snuggling into the warmth Steve offered, the air conditioning in their room kicking in, cooling their sweaty skin. 

“You know, seeing you stand up there in your suit yesterday, definitely did things to me.” Bucky said sleepily, only realising as Steve went still, how that could be misconstrued, but before he could clarify, Steve exhaled and kissed his forehead.

“Same, I couldn’t help imagine what it would be like if you were the one walking towards me.”

And Bucky was _not_ expecting that, his throat went dry at the thought of Steve and he standing in front of their closest friends, pledging their undying love to each other.

“Oh,” he managed to rasp out, head still filling with pictures of he and Steve in tuxedos, dancing to Frank Sinatra’s, _Witchcraft,_ which was oddly specific for an errant thought. But the lyrics had always got to him.

“I mean…” Steve sounded a little uncertain and Bucky wanted to immediately soothe him, “I’m not asking you, not yet.”

“Yet?” Bucky squeaked out, “Jesus Stevie, you’re killing me here.”

“So that’s a - “

“- that’s a, yeah, one day.”

“Really? Truly?”

Steve looked so hopeful and pleased, Bucky knew he would never be able to deny this man anything, especially if it was something he too desperately wanted at some point in their lives. But they both knew they weren’t in any rush, and it was just another way to check in on each other to ensure they were still on the same page. Bucky didn’t think they ever would be off it, now that they’d found it.

“Really, truly. Now let me sleep, you sex-slave driver.”

“Sure thing, beautiful,” Steve replied with a smile so bright, it rivalled the sun shining outside. And Bucky was so gone on this man; thankfully, the sentiment was returned tenfold.

Steve and the others never made it to scuba-diving, the Avengers suddenly being called out for an urgent mission in Europe. The quinjet came to pick them all up mid-morning, and Steve left Bucky with a hard lingering kiss on the lips that he’d feel for days, among all the other delicious hurts he held close.

But what made Bucky tremble from head to toe was the way Steve pulled him in after Bucky had told him to stay safe, and husked against his ear, that ‘he’d always be coming home to him’.

It was officially their thing now. And Bucky loved it.

The unforeseen but not unusual last minute operation left only a scant few people from the immediate wedding party, and since they still had a day or two left, they made the most of it. Everyone was just thankful that the emergency didn’t fall the day before, mid-ceremony. Pepper didn’t seem at all phased that Tony had been called out, just glad they made it to wedded bliss and had at least one night with her new husband.

So Pepper, Darcy, Jane and Bruce (as his brand of green rage monster would not fit the delicate nature of the mission, something Bruce seemed pleased about) went diving. Bucky taking so many pictures underwater of them all and the fish, only getting out of the water when Darcy mentioned how he’d almost wet himself when watching Jaws the first time.

“I was seven, what did you expect? I wish I’d never shared that story with you.”

“You can’t help it, you’re an oversharer,” Darcy grinned at him, flicking water into his face, which only instigated the splashiest, most absurd game ever, once Bucky jumped back in to defend his honour that was. Surprisingly, Jane won the fight, and Bucky was never going to underestimate her again, she held her own and he realised someone who dated the formidable Thor was always going to be strong. Though Thor _did_ cry during the wedding ceremony.

Late afternoon saw them getting massages and when the girls received a pedicure, both he and Bruce shrugged their shoulders and asked for one too. Bucky gained a lovely burnt orange hue on his toenails, and Bruce opted for clear, though when Bucky tried to suggest green, it earned him an unimpressed look.

The last day was a pool day, drinking cocktails at the swim up bar and sending photos through to everyone on mission, knowing that only Tony would receive them, as most of the others didn’t take phones. This was due to an array of reasons, one which Bucky assumed was if caught by an enemy it would compromise them, but it was due to the expense of SHIELD having to replace them regularly for cracked screens. But Tony had his suit and JARVIS could and _did_ send small snippets back and forth much to the disgust of Tony lamenting his lack of honeymoon. Pepper just laughed in her tinkling voice at him, asking the barman for another gin cocktail. Bucky _really_ liked Pepper.

But all good things had to come to an end and they were soon on Tony’s private jet flying back to New York, back to reality but most importantly back to Steve, as soon as he returned from Europe that was. Darcy and he sat huddled together while the others dozed, read or listened to music. They themselves shared an earbud each listening to an eighties playlist, trying hard not to burst into song when _I’ve had the time of my life_ started.

“Do you think you guys will get married?” Darcy asked quietly, once they’d reigned in the urge to annoy everyone with their loud singing, probably the pilot included.

Bucky only paused for a moment, as it was fresh in his mind after his conversation with Steve, but he wasn’t going to hold it back from Darcy. “Yeah I think we will, one day, and you?”

Darcy’s eyes shifted to the window as she looked out and Bucky waited, he knew Darcy had always been vehemently against the institution of marriage, ever since her parents split when she was a child, and he was waiting for the usual line about how she never wanted to, but instead she looked back at him and nodded her head slowly.

“I think I’m more open to the idea, not now, and not soon, but sure, with the right person.”

“And Natasha?”

“Might be the right person, we’ll see. Early days yet.” She said with a soft hopeful smile and then proceeded to drape herself across him, head on his lap, passing him the earbud she’d dislodged at her movements. He pressed it back in to hear REO Speedwagon and grinned, holding her close against him, watching as she shut her eyes, relaxing into his warmth. He threw a rug over her.

“Double wedding?” Bucky teased a moment later when they were settled.

“Of course, we’ll have to have matching dresses too.’

“And why do you think _I’d_ be the one wearing a dress?”

Darcy cracked an eye and looked up at him, eyebrow raised and they both started to laugh hard. Bucky knew it was because they were both picturing Steve in a wedding gown.

“Steve doesn’t have the legs for it,” he finally chuckled out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Plus, heels would kill him.”

They started to giggle again, waking Bruce up who grumbled at them and Darcy stifled her mirth, looking up at Bucky and smiling, snuggling deeper into his lap. He absently ran his fingers over her hair until she was asleep, and he followed soon after, wondering how long it would be until Steve came home. But he wasn’t concerned, Steve would always come home to him after all.

  
  
  


He’d been spending an inordinate amount of time in the lab while Steve was away, it had only been six days and Pepper in all of her visits hadn’t been able to give Bucky any idea on how long the mission would take. Tony had told her soon. But with Tony, time was limitless and soon could mean a month or ten minutes. But Pepper had said everything was going as usual, which meant only Hawkeye had suffered any form of injury (not life threatening) Scott was annoying people with his chipper outlook and jokes and Natasha had lost her cool three times so far. More times were imminent.

But on the home front, Bucky’s application, SmartCare was on the cusp of being ready for beta testing and he was thrilled with the progress he’d made over the last few months. It had been a hard slog, and not just because Tony was intimately involved with the project. If Bucky were being honest, it wouldn’t have the smoothness, the capabilities, if Tony hadn’t spoken and insisted on investigating some of his more outlandish ideas. Some which had been toned down for practicalities sake, but that aside, his baby, his hard earned project and ideas were coming to fruition. And so much had happened in the space between the interview with Pepper and Tony, to where he was now.

Obviously his work was going full steam ahead at a pace which was exciting and nerve wracking, and he had a team of seven people working under him to get it right, ready, but also in that time his personal life had exploded spectacularly.

He never thought he’d meet an Avenger, Tony aside, as everyone had met Iron Man at some point, but not only did he meet one, but he met them all and proceeded to fall in love with Captain America, Steve. 

If his life was written into a novel it would read fairly steadily from his mundane upbringing, Darcy being a blip in middle school, to college, the army, creating his business, then the later chapters would all read at breakneck speed, not slowing down at all. 

Bucky wouldn’t change a single thing.

Meeting Steve was the catalyst in finding out who he was, down to his core, and the fact he also gave this in return to Steve, making him feel he had a home in the future, a future which was now his present, his forever, was heady and made him lightheaded if he thought too long on it.

All that really mattered was they had each other, always, and they both knew with a certainty that stole his breath on occasion, they had forever. There was no more questioning on motivation or wondering ‘what if’. Things had worked out, for both of them.

He’d just arrived in the Towers main foyer, waiting for an elevator when his phone started to ring. Pulling it from his pocket, he grinned broadly when he saw Steve’s name lighting up the screen.

“Hey gorgeous,” he answered and heard the small huff of happiness from Steve.

“Hey yourself. How you doing, Buck? Miss me?” There was a slight pause and before he could melt at finally hearing Steve’s voice again or respond, Steve kept speaking, “because I missed you, so much.”

He melted.

“Well I assume your mission is over if you’ve got your phone back?”

Steve murmured in agreement, the low rumble filling the receiver as Bucky climbed into the elevator, pushing the button for the lab. Bucky looked at the numbers slowly climbing, as Steve's deep voice filled his ear again.

"Honestly can't wait to see you, it's been a long week."

Bucky hummed in agreement, "I know, Stevie, but I'll see you tonight right?"

"Absolutely," Steve replied, the smile in his voice coming clearly through the earpiece. "But you know what?"

"What?" Bucky said as the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open, only to reveal Captain America, in full regalia, helmet in hand, dirt and sweat crusted to his uniform, filling the space as he walked in with his unique scent. Bucky's mouth immediately went dry.

"I love you."

Bucky grinned at the words spoken directly into his ear as well as out loud before him, and because he wasn't rude like that and if Captain America ever said he loved you it was only damn well patriotic and polite to say it back, he looked deeply into familiar blue eyes and smirked.

"I love you too."

Then he was enveloped in huge arms as lips crashed into his in a desperate needy kiss. A kiss that Bucky would happily get lost in for a lifetime, was planning to. And as Steve deepened it, doors closing behind them while the elevator traversed up floors at a slower pace thanks to the intervention of JARVIS, Bucky knew without a doubt that he'd spend the rest of his days like this. Consumed with love for Steve Rogers, and being loved just as much in return.

It was, quite simply, perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks for sticking with me, and I guess all I have left to say is - although it is sad to say goodbye to Bucky and Steve here - just know that their story and their utter love for each other will always live on forever in these pages and beyond.  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> I'm on the below if you ever want to chat about anything!
> 
> Tumblr -[ kalee60](https://kalee60.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter - @kalee60_


End file.
